A Feather in the Hat
by spiff455
Summary: The cause is lost, but there is one thing left worth fighting for. The ragged rebel returns home, driven only by cherished memories and a promise made long ago. The pony was his whole life, a life that he left to fight for a foolish hope. His only hope now is peace, but he will find that his journey has only just begun.
1. Chapter One: A Promise

**A Feather in the Hat**

Chapter One: A Promise

It was the sort of night that would meet the fancy of an artist or a poet. Crisp, calm, cold air, and a cloudless sky where a bright full moon shown down on a blanket of fresh snow. It was the sort of night where a man should be relaxing from his day's labors in front of a warm fire, his stomach full of food and soured by drink.

For Sergeant Richard Pearson of the 14th Light Infantry Regiment, Provisional Army of the Revolution, the thought of warmth, comfort and a full belly seemed so foreign as to have come from another world. He had not known such luxuries for a very long time, but his exhaustion, hunger and freezing discomfort were the farthest things from his mind at the moment, for this night was anything but calm.

The ground shook from the impacts of the shells from the fast firing three-inch field guns the Federalists had drug forward to take part in this slaughter. The serene darkness was split by the fireballs from those shells as well as the muzzle flashes from rifles and machine guns. Pearson ran at a crouch, his battered Tredegar rifle held at the low port. His platoon had been at the head of the column in this foraging party and had thankfully been spared the full force of this ambush from the rear. Now, with his lieutenant dead it was up to him as the senior sergeant, perhaps the only sergeant left, to lead the survivors to safety. They ran in the shadow of a tree line, momentarily concealed from the butchers on the ridge who seemed content with massacring his comrades still caught in the open.

He heard a hissing sound above him, and suddenly the whole valley was illuminated in a dull red glow. He looked up and saw the parachute flare, and by instinct threw himself to the ground. His soldier's instinct had served him well in four years of bloody war, and it seemed to do him a kindness once more. Less than a second after he fell into the snow a shell screamed overhead and exploded a mere thirty or forty yards behind him. The deadly missile took three men with it. One man mercifully died instantly, another screamed as he grasped his stump of a leg, the third man fell to his knees, vomited blood, and then collapsed into the snow and eternity.

Pearson cursed the gunners, and then cried: "Down! Down you bastards!"

The command was pointless as the few survivors had gone to ground like him. The damned flare was still fizzling overhead, providing ample light for the gunners serving the three-incher as well as a machine gun crew which now opened up on the rebel platoon. Pearson saw a shell crater ahead of him, and realizing it was his only hope, got to his feet and made a mad dash towards it. The fire hose of bullets coming from the machine gun followed him, and just as their trajectory was about to intercept his he jumped.

He landed face first in the muck at the bottom of the hole. As he pulled his face up his nose was assaulted with a foul odor. It was a familiar stench, the stench of death. He scrambled to the side of the hole as he realized he was sharing this shelter with the bloated corpse of one of his comrades, likely killed days prior. He ignored his new roommate and slowly inched his way up the side of the hole. The machine gun was still firing at his fellows still lying prone on the valley floor. He heard rifle fire behind him, no doubt a few intrepid souls daring to rise far enough from the ground to fire back at their tormentor.

Pearson lined up his own rifle, the battered Tredegar, his constant companion. The flare which had doomed them now served him. He fired once, the bullet sparking as it struck the machine gun's receiver. In an automatic, unthinking motion he cycled the bolt without moving his point of aim. He fired again, and this time the gun fell silent. The ragged rebel let out an angry cry, a shout of defiance. The assistant machine gunner immediately hopped behind the breach of the weapon. Pearson aimed and squeezed the trigger.

_Click_

"Shit!" Pearson threw himself back into the hole as the machine gun traversed to fire on him. He opened the bolt of the weapon, then went to grab a new clip. He wore a standard ammunition belt, with ten pouches to hold two five round stripper clips apiece. One hundred rounds in full battle kit. He couldn't remember the last time he had a full hundred rounds on his person, but now as he ripped open each pouch he found nothing. He felt his heart sink. "It's over."

"Come on lads, keep up, just a bit further. Once we get over that river we'll be just fine." He had repeated those words so many times over the past few weeks that he had almost begun to believe them himself. But it was over. Polara, his country, had been torn apart by a four year civil war and it was coming to its bloody conclusion. The Republican Assembly, the governing body of the revolutionary effort had collapsed, half its members in hiding, the other half either hanging from a rope or put up against a wall and shot. It's capital, Pemberton, had fallen, and it's army was a tattered remnant of a once proud and victorious force.

Pearson had been lying to himself as well as his men, saying there was still hope. Now that hope was truly gone. He drew his long bayonet from its scabbard and fixed it to the rifle's muzzle. When the Federals advanced he was determined to take at least one more with him to hell. He preferred it that way, rather than rotting away in a prison camp.

As he leaned back against the wall of the crater to wait his old slouch hat fell off of his head. He looked at it for a moment, wondering to himself if it was even worth picking up. He decided he should at least die with his hat on, so he picked it up and brushed the mud off. As he brushed he accidentally knocked the blue feather out of the hat band. In an instant of panic he snatched it from the mud and held it close to him. It was his talisman, his good luck charm. It was what had kept him alive these four long years. While it seemed strange for a man resigned to death to care about such a thing, Rickey Pearson couldn't bear to die without his only connection to…her. He sighed as a new wave of emotion rode over him, as his mind trailed off to that day so long ago…

Summer in southern Polara was a beautiful time. Farmer's fields brought forth great oceans of corn and wheat. Birds sang a happy chorus in the trees as a gentle breeze blew through the leaves. On this summer day four young men stood outside their modest home, Rickey Pearson one of them. The four boys where the adopted children of Mr. and Mrs. Davis, who now said there final goodbyes. These men were off to war, to fight for the revolution that had swept through Polara like wild fire.

"Where ever you go, whatever you do…" Mrs. Davis said as she tearfully hugged each of them, "Remember that our prayers are always with you." She stepped back and wiped the tears from her eyes. The four boys looked at one another nervously, it was rare to see their strict mother become emotional, and it was making them uncomfortable.

"Alright dear, let's let them get on their way." Mr. Davis said as he walked forward. "Good luck boys, now go and get this damn fool thing over with so ya'll can come home. Be plenty of work waiting for you." He let out a light chuckle then cleared his throat. "I love you boys, be careful out there."

The other three responded in kind, but Rickey's attention was not on his adoptive father, but on the blue coated and chestnut maned pony that stood next to Mrs. Davis, who would not meet his gaze. He knew all too well why and it pained him deeply. She was his little sister and his best friend. He loved her more than anything in the world, and his leaving had broken her heart.

"Alright boys, out with you!" He threw out his arms in a shooing motion. It was not because he wanted rid of them, it was because the emotion was too much for the stoic man. They said the final goodbyes and turned to walk away. Rickey lingered for a moment longer. Lily still would not look at him, and he did not have the heart to approach her. Instead he just spoke in a small voice: "Bye Lily, I love you." He then turned to join his brothers.

"Rickey…Rickey wait." He felt his heart jump. He turned around to see her slowly walking towards him as she struggled to fight back tears. She stopped at his feet and he knelt down to embrace her.

"I…I have something I want to give you. She broke the embrace and took a step back. "So you won't forget me."

"Lily. How could you say such a damn fool thing? I could never…Lily what are you doing?" She had extended her left wing, and then took one of her primary feathers in her mouth and plucked it free. "Lily, you're hurting yourself, what are you…"

"Shhhh." She cooed. She walked behind him and put her hooves on his head. He tried to turn to see what she was doing. "Be still!" she called. "There." Satisfied with her work she walked back to his front.

Rickey pulled off his hat and held it before him. The feather was tucked into the hat band. "Lily…"

"Now we will always be together…" She smiled faintly. Rickey could no longer restrain his own emotions, he pulled her into a tight embrace, much tighter than before. He could feel her heart beat, it was very strong. It had always been strong, even when she was just a little filly. She was much bigger than the day he had first found her, but she would always be his little lily flower.

"Make me a promise Rickey…" She spoke quietly

"Anything."

"Promise me you'll come home."

He knew it was impossible to make such a promise; he was going to war and was fully aware of what that meant. Yet, as he looked into her eyes he felt in his heart that he could do so. He had to make this promise and he had to live by it, for her.

"I promise."…

Pearson felt pathetic. He had let himself wallow in self-pity and defeatism. "I promise." He said allowed. He had made that sacred oath, and know he was letting it be broken. He let out an angry growl and tightened his grip on the rifle. How could he be so stupid? Just because the revolution was dead didn't mean that he was as well. Had this war really broken him so? To allow him to abandon that which he loved most because he was so ready to give up? "No!" he cried. He could feel it brewing inside him: A savage fury that had carried him into the enemy lines countless times, and had forced him to plant his feet against the Federalist horde countless more.

He knelt down next to his long dead comrade and ripped his cartridge belt free. He wasted no time to count the ammo; its weight alone was reassurance that the canvas belt contained something he could kill Federalists with. He slung it diagonally across his body like a cross belt, then took placed one of the clips into the breach of his Tredegar and shoved down hard to feed the rounds into the weapon's hungry magazine.

He knelt for a moment longer next to the fallen rebel. He did not know the man's name or even his regiment, but in this moment he was his brother. A brother that had done him an unspeakable kindness by giving him what he need to carry on. "Thank you pard, rest easy now." He said as he forcibly shut the man's eyes.

He peeked his head out of the hole to reconnoiter his surroundings. The flare was gone, and so was the attention of the machine gun crew. A few Federal riflemen on the ridge undoubtedly still watched this dark section of valley, content to let Pearson's platoon stay where they were until the remaining Federals off to the right could advance to turn their flank. Pearson knew it was only a matter of time before that advance so he must move quickly. He threw himself out of the hole and immediately fell to his belly to keep low. He looked around to find his men.

"Sarge! Sarge, that be you over there?" The sound came as a loud whisper from Pearson's right. In the faint light of the moon he could make out a group of butternut clad men huddled beneath a low rise in the valley floor. The rise seemed to be enough to keep them safe from the eyes and bullets of the Federalists. Pearson went at a fast crawl to rejoin what remained of his platoon.

He counted ten men in all. "This all that's left?" He asked aloud.

"Yea sarge, rest of 'em gone off." Corporal Parker pointed to the tree line where they had first come under direct fire.

Pearson swore under his breath. Ten men, three quarters of them half trained teenagers that had been snatched up by the Home Guard a mere few months prior. He swore again. It didn't matter, he told himself, because he had a promise to keep and these ten men would have to do. He quickly peeked his he up over the lip of the rise to scan the enemy ridge. He made it brief; knowing every second increased the risk of his skull being ventilated exponentially. Less than a hundred yards to the ridge, at least one machine gun and an unknown number of riflemen, and a field gun behind and to the left. He swore again.

"What we gonna do sarge?" One of the fresh fish asked. Pearson did not know the boy's name. Early on in his soldiering career he knew almost every man in his company by first and last name, as well as where they came from and what they did before the war. He had stopped that practice some time ago. "Sarge?" The boy asked again.

"Quiet!" he snapped. "Just shut up and wait." An advance by rushes was out of the question, too few men to both attack and cover. To try and go back and attempt to circumvent the Federal position was just as suicidal, that approach was covered by infantry on the right and the three-incher on the left. "To hell with it," He said under his breath the hissed to his command: "Fix bayonets."

A few of the boys looked at him with terrified eyes for a moment before obeying. Once the ten blades were fixed to the ten muzzles he ran his hand over the feather in his hat quickly, then waved his had forward. "Come on!"

He sprinted as fast as his legs would carry him. Despite the terror in all of their hearts the eleven Revolutionary Soldiers began their shrill battle cry: the Rebel Yell. Their cries pierced the night as they closed on the ridge, and got the attention of their foes. The few riflemen on the ridge began to fire, and the machine gun crew likewise traversed their gun to face the screaming rebels.

He heard cries of agony from behind him. He couldn't stop to help them, to stop was to die. They reached the base of the ridge. Pearson didn't stop to count how many men he had left. The machine gun was placed in such a way that it could not depress its barrel far enough to hit him and his men, and as the crew exposed themselves to reposition the gun they were cut down. Pearson ran forward to the base of the gun emplacement and used the front leg of it's tripod to heave himself over.

The Federal infantry, less than a squad, was being driven back by his survivors that were now using the front slope of the ridge as a ready-made rifle pit. As they broke and ran his men began to cheer.

"Come on damnit! We ain't done yet!" One last obstacle remained the gun crew. They charged forward silently now, exhaustion taking the yell from their lungs. The gun crew now saw the danger and armed themselves accordingly. Their main charge, the gun itself, was useless to them now. Pistols and knives where their armament as Pearson's men closed in. One man, apparently the gun captain, aimed his pistol at him. Pearson fired from the hip as he charged, a lucky shot that only winged the Federal, but it threw him off balance long enough for him to clear the distance and run his bayonet deep into the man's abdomen. He let out a breathless scream as he fell. Pearson twisted the blade as he withdrew so the suction of the flesh would not hold the blade, then delivered a killing slash across the man's throat.

"Kill the bastards! Kill the bastards!" He cried to his men as they took on the rest of the crew. Those who still lived abandoned their gun, knowing that the rebels had no means to take it as a prize and would soon leave. Pearson obliged their thoughts as he led his precious few survivors away from the gun and back, he hoped, to safety…

Six men. Six men remained in Rickey Pearson's platoon as he paraded them in his company's camp. Captain McGuire met them there. Their commander was a doctor before the war and he approached without his tunic and in rolled up, blood stained shirt sleeves. The Captain had no doubt been helping the surgeons with the many wounded still in the Army's care.

"Is this all sergeant?" The officer questioned flatly.

Pearson didn't have the heart to verbalize a reply, even to an officer, so he just nodded his head.

"And the rest of the patrol?" He questioned.

Pearson shook his head. His Captain sighed. "Dismiss your lads sergeant. Make sure they get something to eat."

"Sir! Break ranks, March!" Pearson called to his pitifully small command. His men straggled off to retrieve their packs that they had left with the company clerk, and no doubt to tear apart the kits of men who did not return to find anything edible or of value. Pearson stayed behind, his captain wash trying to wipe the blood off of his hands when he noticed him.

"Something else sergeant?"

"No sir…it's just…Has the mail come in yet?" Pearson asked like a hopeful child.

McGuire looked at him quizzically for a moment. "Sergeant, I don't think a man in this army has received a letter in over a month…" Suddenly the realization dawned on the officer. "Ah, I'm sorry Rickey, but there has been no word. I'm sure she is fine."

Captain McGuire and Sergeant Pearson had a history that predated the war by many years. McGuire was the town doctor in Riverview, the town that Rickey and his adoptive family lived in. He had cared for Lily when she was ill and as a consequence was one of the few people outside of the family that knew about her. Her existence was a closely guarded secret, for if the Federal government found out about her there would be hell to pay.

"I hope so sir…When we got ambushed out there, it was her that kept me goin' I was ready to give up, just lay down and die, God as my witness." Rickey would never dare to talk so frankly to another officer, but the differences between the rank and file and the officer's mess mattered little to him at the moment. The savage courage that he had a few hours prior had abandoned him now. All he felt was a gut wrenching worry about Lily, and he desperately wanted some reassurance from the man he had such fierce loyalty and admiration for.

McGuire understood his thoughts. He placed a hand on the younger sergeant's shoulder and spoke frankly. "Riverview is over a hundred miles south of here. And as long as us, the river, and Oakley up in the mountains faces the Federals then they are safe."

Pearson sighed and nodded, then despite all his better judgment blurted out: "I want to go home sir." He looked sheepishly into McGuire's eyes. "Sorry sir, I didn't mean it."

"The hell you didn't, and so do I. That don't change the facts though. One way or another this war will end soon enough. Keep yourself alive until then eh?" The Captain put on a faint smile. "Go get some rest sergeant. Think about the happy times, it'll make you feel better."

"Yes sir." Pearson saluted, then walked off…

Pearson drew his daily ration from the quartermaster, if it could be called that. The piece of hardtack and few ounces of salt pork where in his stomach by the time he had retrieved his pack. Satisfied that the vultures had not mistaken him for a dead man, he went to check on his men. Each man had partially resupplied on ammunition, something that the army always seemed to have more of than food. His duty as sergeant done he found a tree to lay against, then on the advice of his commanding officer he retrieved a small photograph from his pocket.

There he was, much younger and much happier, and there she was, on his lap. She wore a smile that could bring joy to the heart of the most bitter of men. He held the picture close, and thought back to that happy day. The day his life changed forever…


	2. Chapter Two: Memory Lane Part One

**A Feather in the Hat**

Chapter 2: Memory lane part one

Rickey Pearson knelt down on the snow covered trail. The tracks of the massive buck he had been following took another turn. He had been tracking this great deer for the better part of the day, and he was freezing.

Memory can be a strange thing at times; he knew that he had been much colder before. Not even two years ago he had been an orphan living on the streets of the big city. He had truly been cold then, and starving. He spent his days either begging, or outright stealing food. Yet now, when he had a roof over his head, food in his stomach, and loving adoptive parents, he seemed to forget quite the severity of his former condition. Now he felt as if he had never been colder in his life.

The fourteen year old farm boy continued onward following the trail of the deer. He and his other former orphan "brothers" had been taken in by Mr. and Mrs. Davis. Mrs. Davis was unfortunately unable to bear children of her own, but she and her husband resolved after many years of failure that they wouldn't let biology stand in their way. They adopted the four boys, finding each of them alone on the streets. They were put to work on the farm while Mr. Davis worked as a lawyer in town. When their chores were finished Mrs. Davis would teach the young men, so that they could grow up and get into college to live successful lives. They loved their children, regardless of the fact that they were born from other parents.

Rickey ducked under a low hanging tree branch as he continued onward. He shifted the lever action carbine from his left to his right hand in order to allow his left some time in his coat pocket to warm up. The rifle was illegal; the Federal Government of Polara had outlawed the civilian ownership of any cartridge based firearms under the guise of public safety. The law didn't stop many from getting these weapons. Whenever he went hunting with this rifle he always had a contingency plan in case he ran into any officials out in the woods. He would ditch the rifle at first sight and claim he was out looking for his lost puppy. He was relatively skilled at conning adults; he had lived by it as an orphan.

He followed the tracks, he could almost taste the sweet venison that awaited him. He by no means had to hunt for his food, Mr. Davis's job and the farm itself always yielded more than enough food to feed the family, but he encouraged the boys to hunt for the delicacy anyway, it toughened them up and sharpened their skills.

The trail now led to a densely wooded area, it slowed his movements a bit but he continued onward, single-mindedly focused on his goal, the big buck. As he followed the heavy tracks of the deer he came upon another spot. The tracks continued onward but he came to a halt.

Blood, in minor spots and large puddles. It had all soaked into the snow by now but the smell was still prevalent, the smell of death. The snow was disturbed by small tracks, in the shape of small horse hoof prints, as well as larger imprints, again the size and shape of small horses. But what bothered Rickey more than anything else were the boot prints, not of the style worn by civilian hunters, but the heavier treaded style, worn by the military. Nearby were a few shell casings. It seemed most of the ones fired here were picked up by whoever fired them but these were neglected. He picked one up and examined it. He had only seen pictures of these, they were .308's, a cartridge not fired by any of the illegal firearms owned by civilians, they were fired from the military's new Tredegar rifles. The Government was here, the government…

"Shit!" Ricky said aloud, he quickly dove into the nearest clump of underbrush he could find. He sat therefore a long while, alert, fearful that there still might be soldiers about.

He heard nothing but the sounds of nature, no marching boots, no diesel trucks, just wind. He got up from his cover, feeling a little bit ridiculous from his paranoia. He mentally debated rather to continue to follow the tracks or to return home to tell the others about what he had found when he heard a noise coming from his right. He instinctively dropped to the earth. He heard it again; it was a low whimpering sound.

Carefully, he got to his feet. He slowly moved toward the source of the sound, his rifle to his shoulder. He drew the exposed hammer to full stand as he inched closer. Whatever it was making the noise lay behind a small shrub. He drew in his breath and prepared himself mentally as he moved the brush back with his left hand…

"What in the hell?" there it was, the source of the sound. It was…a filly. Rickey was familiar with horses, but he had never seen anything like this. It was not more than a foot from head to flank. Its coat was blue, its mane a rich brown. Its head was massive in comparison to its body and its eyes impossibly large. It even had, he didn't believe his eyes, what appeared to be wings.

The filly looked up at him, seemed to make eye contact for a brief moment, then looked down to the rifle still aimed squarely at it, and let out another whimper and tried in vain to inch away.

It seemed to be able to recognize firearms, and was obviously afraid, no doubt the result of whatever had happened to the others that were with her. Rickey carefully lowered the hammer and set the rifle aside.

"I'm not gonna hurt you." He slowly extended his hand to the strange creature. She moved back in fear.

"It's alright little one, I wanna help you." The filly, almost as if she understood his words, gently nuzzled his hand, and then she raised her hooves toward him and began to cry. She was shivering.

Rickey was taken aback for a moment, then he scooped up the filly in his arms.

"Shhhhhhhhh, it'll be alright little one." He un fastened the front of his coat and brought the filly in close, wrapping the coat around her.

He rocked her gently back and forth, both trying to warm her and calm her down. Then it hit him, he'd heard about her kind. He remembered officials telling citizens to report any sightings of strange colorful ponies, and that taking them in was a crime and would be punished severely.

"What have I gotten myself into?" he whispered. He looked down at the filly in his arms, he couldn't just leave her here, but it was dangerous to take her home. Then she looked up at him with her impossibly large expressive eyes and put on a very faint smile…

"Damn it" he whispered under his breath. It seems the little filly had made his mind up for him…

He began the long walk back to the farm, the filly in one arm and the rifle in the other. As he walked she began to dose off. At first he was worried, but he calmed down when she began snoring. He smiled at the little filly in his arms.

He heard a chugging sound coming from in his left. He looked up, about one hundred yards away an Army truck was coming up the trail.

He froze momentarily. Now he had two contraband items, a repeating rifle and a pony. He immediately dropped down to one knee, keeping himself sheltered behind the undergrowth. The truck continued to drive past, but not for long. It was about one hundred and fifty yards distant when it came to a halt, and a squad of five soldiers hopped out.

He had to act quickly, they were walking his way. He dropped the rifle into the ground beneath the bushes he was hiding behind. He quickly covered it with snow. He looked up, one hundred yards or so.

He began to set the filly down beneath the bush in the snow, but he wasn't sure how long she'd be there, and he wasn't sure how much more cold she could take. He set her on the ground ever so gently so he wouldn't wake her. Then he quickly took off his coat, he felt an instant chill shock his body. He wrapped the still sleeping filly tightly in his coat and placed her under the bush. Seventy five yards. He took one last look at her, she was so peaceful, so innocent.

"I'll keep you safe…I promise." He gently ran his hand trough her mane.

Fifty yards to go. His only hope was that the filly would remain asleep and make no noise, meanwhile the soldiers couldn't examine this bush to closely. It was a lot to hope for. He began a casual walk away from where he had hidden her. He looked directly forward, intentionally ignoring the soldiers coming towards him.

"Hold it boy!" the lead man, wearing sergeant stripes called out.

"Yes sir?" he said as he put his hands up.

"What you doin' out here boy?"

"Me sir? Oh I was just lookin' for my puppy; he done ran off last night sir, I's real worried about him, sir" He was down playing his own intelligence to add to the 'ignorant farm boy' persona.

"What's that there on yer hip?" the sergeant gestured to the revolver "I think were gonna hafta take you in."

Ricky stepped back a few paces. "This here sir? It's just an ol' thing I take with me on account of coyotes and what not. It takes shot and powder, not no cartridge…" one of the other soldiers interrupted him by jerking the weapon out of its holster.

"It's legal sarge." He said as he examined the revolver. He threw it in the snow when he was finished. Rickey bent down to retrieve it…

"Leave it. Where's your coat boy? You too dumb to know its freezing out?" The sergeant said in a condescending tone.

"No sir, I knows it's cold. I's just in such a rush when I saw my little puppy done gone missin' that I just grabbed my gun and started a runnin'." One of the soldiers was getting dangerously close to the filly and his rifle.

_God, I really don't ask for much, just please don't let him see her…_

The sergeant got closer "Tell me boy, you seen anything…_strange…_out here today?"

"What do you mean sir?"

The sergeant appeared to grow rather annoyed with him and his perceived stupidity; Ricky's ruse seemed to be working.

"Anything odd, like out of the ordinary."

"Well sir, only odd thing I seen today is a couple a' soldiers out here in the woods."

"Really? When?" the sergeant's curiosity was peaked

"Right here sir, I's lookin' right at 'em"

The sergeant looked behind him, then it he realized Rickey was talking about them. In a rage he turned around and backhanded him across the face, knocking him into the snow. Rickey had expected a similar reaction; he let out an overly dramatic cry of pain.

"You think you're funny boy!" he bent down and grabbed Ricky by his shirt and forced him to his feet. "You think you're funny tryin' to make a fool outa me?"

"No sir! No sir! I ain't tryin' to fool no one, ya'll is all I seen, honest!" regardless of the overly dramatic fear he was playing out was at least a little scared. He was scared the big sergeant might beat him more but he was more afraid that his yelling might wake the sleeping filly and make her cry, betraying her hiding spot.

"There ain't nothin' here sarge.," the man closest to the filly announced.

The sergeant let out a grunt of frustration and dropped Rickey back into the snow. "Alright men, back to the truck. We was never here, got that boy?"

"Yes sir, you was never here."

"Good boy." The soldiers began their walk back to the truck. Rickey sat in the same spot the sergeant had tossed him in until they were far out of sight. Once they were gone he let out a sigh of relief and rubbed his burning cheek. Many years later Rickey would meet up with that sergeant again during the war. "Remember me!" he would cry as he swung his rifle like a base ball bat, crashing the butt of the weapon into the same spot on him that he had hit Rickey. It snapped his neck.

He got to his feet, his legs felt like they were made out of some of Mrs. Davis's grape preserves. He quickly retrieved his revolver and trotted over to the spot he had hid the filly and his rifle. He found her awake, and silent, the same look of fear on her face that she had when he first found her. When she finally recognized his face she began to cry again, stretching her front legs toward him, begging to be held.

Rickey scooped her up again, without hesitation this time. As he held her he gently removed the coat and put it on, wrapping it around them both. He leaned up against a tree, trying to calm her. He rocked her back and forth, eventually she stopped crying. She nuzzled into his chest as she continued a low whimper.

"I'll never let them hurt you," he said as he ran his fingers through her mane. "I'm taking you home, and I'm gonna protect you, no matter what happens." He wasn't sure if she understood what he said or not, but she looked up at him and smiled. He leaned down and kissed her on the forehead.

He was confused by his own feelings. Less than two hours ago he didn't even know this little filly existed and now he felt as if he would gladly die to protect her. He was a person accustomed to not knowing what the future held, as an orphan he didn't know if he would eat the next day. Now, as an educated young man, aware of the turmoil in his country, he didn't know what the future held for Polara. But for the first time in his life he was sure of one thing, that no matter what happens he would protect this innocent little filly, he had to. There was once a time when he had absolutely nothing, now he had a family, a home, and hope for the future. He would now give the same thing to her, his way of repaying the favor.

He got to his feet, and began the long walk home…


	3. Chapter Three: Memory Lane Part Two

**A Feather in the Hat**

Chapter 3: Memory lane part 2

Rickey held the sleeping filly tight against his body as he approached the house. He had been mentally debating with himself during the walk as to rather or not he should tell his family about the filly. They had no love for the government or its laws, as demonstrated by the several illegal firearms on the property, but he wasn't sure if they would take to this new felony as well. He decided his best approach would be simply to handle developments in the situation as they came; right now his number one priority was to get the filly out of the cold before she fell ill, and to get some food in her.

He hugged the wall of the barn as he peered around the corner to observe the activity around the house, he wore no watch but by his reckoning it had to be after five o'clock. Most of the days chores had been accomplished when he set out after the deer so he assumed they had all been accomplished by now, after all it was winter. With the exception of cutting firewood and taking care of the animals there wasn't much else to do during these cold and dreary months.

He saw no activity around the house, most likely the three boys were inside getting ready for dinner. He didn't see Mr. Davis's car in the drive so he was most likely still at work. He quickly entered the barn and stored the lever gun with the others in a hidden cellar beneath the barn, where the family stored all of their contraband.

He walked quickly toward the house, keeping on the lookout for the members of his adopted family. He reached the back door undetected and, very slowly, reached for the knob with his free hand. It turned with a quiet _click. _He crept through the doorway and stopped. The open archway leading into the kitchen was in direct line of sight of the back door. He could see the backside of Mrs. Davis as she busied herself with preparing supper. Two of his adoptive brothers, Archie Willard and Bill Sumner, sat at the table playing a game of chess. He silently made his way to the staircase when he immediately froze in his tracks. Out of the corner of his eye he saw someone on the couch. He threw himself back against the wall in fear, but then peaked around the corner. It was his eldest brother, Jim Mayfield, and he was thankfully napping. Rickey let out a silent sigh of relief and made his was quickly up the stairs.

He walked to his room at the end of the hall and silently entered, shutting the door behind him. He gently set the filly down on his bed, and as he did she began to stir a little. She let out a yawn and looked up at him.

"Stay here little one, I'm going to get you some food." Rickey quickly made his way out of the kitchen and left the house as silently as he entered. He returned to the barn he had stored his lever gun in. He searched the many cabinets and storage closets before he found what he was looking for: a bottle they used to feed newborn animals if their mothers were for some reason unable and a powdered mix of highly nutritious formula. He put the two items in the large pockets of his coat. He returned to the house a second time, only this time without his previous caution. He walked into the kitchen and opened the icebox to retrieve a bottle of milk.

"Get that buck Rickey?" Archie asked, not looking up from the chess board where he was plotting his next move.

Rickey hesitated for a moment. "No…he got away."

"Shame," was all he said. He reached out and moved his rook. "Checkmate."

Bill, his opponent, looked over the board. "No, wait, how? Damnit!"

Miss Davis immediately turned around. "William! I will not tolerate that kind of language!"

"Sorry ma, I didn't…"

"I don't want excuses, you will do the dishes alone tonight." She stood with her hands on her hips and a stern expression on her face. She could be very intimidating for such a small woman.

"Yes ma'am," was Bill's only reply. Archie let out a chuckle at his adopted brother's expense.

"Is that funny Archibald?" Archie cringed at the mention of his full name. "We'll you can help William then."

Archie just nodded, fearing saying anything else would just get him in worse trouble. Miss Davis was a strict disciplinarian and very religious. She didn't tolerate swearing, gambling, smoking, or drinking, which meant the boys had to go to great lengths to hide all of those things from her. She may have been tough on the four boys but there was no denying that she loved them with her whole heart.

Rickey poured some of the milk into a glass and began to walk away. "Where are you going Richard?" Miss Davis questioned.

He turned about. "Oh just up to my room ma."

"Alright, supper'll be ready in a few. Make sure you bring that glass back down."

Rickey nodded then quickly made his way to his room. He opened the door to find the filly cowering under the blankets and whimpering. He sat on the side of the bed; she seemed startled for a moment then quickly climbed onto his lap. He poured the contents of the glass into the bottle, then poured what he believed to be the right amount of formula into the milk, replaced the cap and shook the solution vigorously. Once he was satisfied that it was thoroughly mixed he brought the bottle to her mouth. She instantly recognized the bottle and began to voraciously suck down the formula. Several times he brought the bottle away fearing that she was drinking it to fast but each time she began to whine so he relented and gave it back. She finished the bottle quickly and as he had seen parents do with their newborns he patted her back to burp her. She let out a satisfying belch, then a yawn. Rickey gentle rocked her to sleep, and then set her down on the bed as she curled up. He placed the blanket over her, and kissed her on her forehead. He smiled to himself, feeling he was doing a good job of taking care of this little filly.

He heard Miss Davis call from downstairs that supper was ready, he quietly shut the door behind him and went downstairs to the meal…

The four boys and Mr. and Misses Davis sat around the table eating a meal of beef stew and buttered bread. The other five carried on conversations that Rickey Pearson was curiously absent from as he quietly ate his food. Miss Davis questioned him about the bruise on his face, he claimed that he had tripped while hunting.

Jim excused himself from the table to use the restroom upstairs. As he left a sudden sense of fear came over Rickey. He knew he couldn't hide the filly forever, but he would keep trying to delay the inevitable for as long as he could, and Jim Mayfield had a bad temper, he prayed that he didn't find her…

The sudden sound of crying confirmed his fears. Mr. Davis was the first to enquire as to the nature of the noise and Rickey was already on his feet. He was met at the foot of the stairs by Jim Mayfield holding the terrified and crying filly by the scruff of her neck.

"What the hell is this?" He demanded.

"Put her down!" Rickey ordered. He tried to reach for her but was met by a hard shove by Jim's free hand.

"I've heard about these things," he shouted over the crying. "And having one is a serious crime, what the hell do you think you are doing?"

"Put her down! You are hurting her!" Rickey cried

"No! I'm getting rid of it." Jim made a quarter turn towards the back door. Rickey cleared the distance between them in a split second; he brought his right knee up hard into Jim's abdomen, causing him to double over slightly. Rickey reached out to snatch the filly from his adoptive brother. He brought her in close and turned away to shield her from Jim. His brother grabbed a handful of his hair in one hand while trying to grab the filly with the other. In both a fit of rage and his new found instinct to protect the little pony, Rickey turned, using the full force of his body to deliver a backhanded blow across Jim's face, much the same as the sergeant had done to him earlier. With his brother reeling from the blow he kicked out with his right foot square in his chest sending him to the floor.

"You won't touch her!" He roared

Jim ran a hand across his mouth, and seeing blood, he became more enraged. Instead of charging at him as Rickey expected, he turned about, shoved past the four other family members who were watching the fight in a state of shock and confusion, and returned an instant later with his revolver. He drew back the hammer and pointed the weapon at Rickey.

"I will not let you endanger this family! Give me that thing, now!"

Rickey instinctively turned slightly to ensure the filly was protected by his body. "Your gonna have to kill me Jim, you want this pony your gonna have to put a bullet in me."

Before anything else could transpire between the two, Mr. Davis put himself between them. "Stop this! What the hell is the matter with you two?" He grabbed the revolver from Jim and de-cocked the piece. "Pointing a gun at your brother? What has gotten into you boy?"

Mr. Davis's intervention had sobered Jim up a bit, but he was still furious. "He keeps that thing here we will all go down!"

"Calm down Jim," He turned to face Rickey. "He is right, I've heard of them too. This isn't like having some guns that we can burry and forget about, this is a living thing. I'm sorry Rickey, it can't stay."

"She! Stop calling her 'it'!"

Mr. Davis put his hands up "Sorry, she, but she can't stay."

Rickey hugged the filly closer to him. "If she goes then I go." He said very flatly.

"Come on Rickey, be serious."

"I am serious!" he yelled "It wasn't that long ago that I was all alone in the world, then ya'll found me and took me in. I ain't about to abandon her." He looked to Miss Davis. "Ma, ain't ya'll always tellin' us that we should help the less fortunate, to be charitable?" He let the question hang. "I swore I would keep her safe, and I mean to. So if she goes then I go."

No one said anything for a few moments, all just stared at Rickey and the filly, then Miss Davis walked forward. "Give me the child Richard."

Rickey backed up a few paces, drawing the filly in closer in a protective stance. Miss Davis walked forward again. "I won't hurt her Richard, let me see her."

Rickey hesitated for a moment. He looked down at the filly who was still whimpering, then back to Miss Davis. He trusted his adoptive mother, than after another moment's pause, gently handed the filly to her. She took her into her arms then gently walked over to her rocking chair and sat down. As the rest of the family looked on with puzzled expressions, Miss Davis rocked back and forth saying kind and calm words to the filly.

"I always wanted a daughter." She said as she looked up at her husband.

Mr. Davis sighed and nodded his head. Rickey was doubtful any man on earth had the courage to stand up to Miss Davis. Rickey finally let himself relax as he let out a sigh of relief. The filly, now finally calmed down from her ordeal, looked up at Rickey and began to squirm in Miss Davis's lap, extending her front hooves toward him.

"It seems she wants to be with you Richard." Miss Davis stood and gestured for Rickey to take the rocking chair. Once he sat down she handed the filly back to him. The small pony smiled as she curled up in his lap. He couldn't help but smile too…

Sergeant Rickey Pearson wiped away the moisture from his eyes. He had been sitting against the tree for some time now, thinking of that happy day. He looked down at the photograph again.

"Whatcha lookin' at sergeant?" a voice came from beside him. He instinctively covered the picture with his hand as he looked up. In was Jim Mayfield.

"Scared you didn't I?" Jim said as he knelt next to him.

"Yea, you did you asshole…I mean sir." Jim Mayfield served in another platoon in the company. A decision had been made by the captain that the for brothers should be split up amongst the different platoons so if one unit got into a bad spot Mr. and Misses Davis wouldn't lose all of their adopted children at once. Six months ago Jim's platoon leader had been killed, and since the Army was by then out of replacement officers he, as the senior NCO in the platoon, had been commissioned as a 2nd Lieutenant.

"Don't call me sir Rickey, please." Jim reached forward and took the picture from Rickey. He looked at for a moment and smiled. "Sure seems like a lifetime ago doesn't it?" he said as he handed the picture back.

"Sure does." Rickey returned the photograph to his pocket.

"I heard you're the platoon leader now." Jim said to his youngest brother with a sense of pride watered down with the knowledge of what had transpired that day to put Rickey in his new found position.

Despite himself, Rickey let out a small laugh. "You know Jim I hadn't really thought about it like that."

"Hell, give it enough time and I bet they'll give you a set of bars like me." He ran his fingers over the two single golden bars on his collar.

"I really don't think that's going to happen Jim."

"Sure it will! Imagine the look on ma and pa's faces when their two victorious officers come walking up the drive!"

Rickey looked up at his eldest brother with a look of disbelief on his face. Could he really still believe this war could be won? As he stared Jim looked away. No, he didn't, he was doing what all officers were supposed to do, keep the men believing in the cause no matter what.

"You're right Jim, _two."_ He didn't mean to put so much of an inflection in the word, but he couldn't help it. Bill and Archie would never come home again.

"Yea." Jim fell silent after that.

"Have you heard anything from home Jim?"

Jim just shook his head.

"I'm worried." Rickey stated.

"About Lily?"

"About all three of them, what if we go home and find…" Jim cut him off.

"Were gonna find two old folks and a pony so happy to see you that she might wind up choking you to death cause o' how hard she is gonna hug you."

Rickey chuckled. "Thanks Jim."

The lieutenant nodded. "Listen Rickey, there is something I've been meaning to say to you."

"What?"

"That night, when we all first met Lily…I…"

"It's alright Jim, that was a long time ago." Rickey moved toward his brother.

"No, no it ain't, I was an ass Rickey, I was just a scared kid, we all were back then, but I was still wrong." Jim's attitude towards Lily had eased a bit after that night, but he still remained distrustful of the pony for years to come. "Look, there is talk of surrender. I guess be happy that you're still a sergeant because I think they'll be more lenient on the enlisted men than the officers. So if you get home before I do, tell her… tell her that I'm sorry. I love her, I really do, but I just let my damn fool pride get in the way of showing it like you and the others did."

Rickey put a hand on his shoulder. It was a rare display of a younger sergeant comforting an older officer. "I'll let you tell her, when we both go home."

Jim nodded. "Well, I best be getting' back to my platoon. How are you're boys fixed for ammunition?"

Rickey shrugged. "About forty rounds a man, about the best I could do."

Jim nodded. "Same with my boys. I'd offer you some more if I could but that seems to be all there is, same with food." Jim stood up and began to head off then turned around. "Oh, and seein's how you're an officer now I'll see if I can get you one of these." He patted the holstered pistol. "No promises though."

Rickey smiled "I won't hold my breath."

Jim smiled then turned and left. Rickey leaned back against the tree again and closed his eyes, resolving to put his worries aside and try and get some sleep. Just as he began to doze off he heard a rifle crack in the distance. He shrugged, thinking it was just a nervous piquet shooting at a ghost. Then he heard another, then another, and then the whole world it seemed erupted in a roar of rifle fire and explosions. He jumped to his feet and grabbed his rifle. Another battle was coming and he knew in his heart that this would be the end.

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><p>Its been forever since i updated this story. I'm very sorry for that. I'm trying to make updates for both this and To End All War more regular. If ya'll like it let me know and I'll keep writing.<p> 


	4. Chapter Four: Sacred Duty

**A Feather in the Hat**

Chapter four: Sacred Duty

Sergeant Rickey Pearson cursed himself and every man in a leadership position in this pathetic remnant of an army for not seeing it. It made perfect sense now. Ever since the line protecting the city of Pemberton, the defacto capital of the Revolution, had fallen three weeks prior, the army had been in retreat. Their goal was to cross the Oklawaha River and the mountains that backed it where they could rejoin with General Oakley's Highland Division, the last unit in the Revolutionary Army that still had the strength to resist, and have a temporary sanctuary high in the mountains where they could hold out for the duration of the winter and recoup from their harrowing losses over the past several months. The Federals, wise to this plan but with no significant force south of the river to stop them, had taken to a campaign of harassment and attrition to slow their retreat. Night after night they bombarded the retreating rebels with fast moving mechanized artillery and specially trained "Lightning Battalions", who used guerrilla tactics adapted from the rebels, to raid their camps and attack the already very thin supply lines. The campaign wore on the already exhausted and malnourished rebels to the point of collapse. Yet there were no bombardments this night, and now it all made sense. The Federals had allowed the army to rest, allowed them to sleep, so that now, in the wee hours of the morning, before even the tiniest rays of sunlight could make their presence known on the horizon they could make their final, crushing assault against the sleeping and confused rebels.

Pearson grabbed his weapon, the Tredegar .308 battle rifle that had been his constant companion through four years of war. He opened up the bolt on the battered gun slightly to ensure it was loaded then returned it to battery. He crouched next to the tree that only a short while ago he had been conversing with his eldest brother under and brought the rifle to his shoulder. If he were going to die here he would die a rifleman. The resignation and self-pity he felt the previous night in the shell crater was gone now, replaced by pure hatred for his enemies. Hatred for the men who had killed his brothers and his friends, and he would take as many with him as he could.

Shells continued to explode all around him. Other rebels were trying their best to find cover but Pearson held his position, he wanted to be ready when the Federal infantry made their assault.

"Where do you want us sarge?" Pearson looked behind him, it was the seven remaining members of his platoon.

"You boys get out of here!" He yelled back, wished the younger soldiers to make a break so they would have a chance at survival. None of them moved.

"We're staying, we ain't no cowards sarge."

Pearson said nothing. He gestured with his right hand for the men to form a line and they quickly obeyed. Then the Federals came.

As the barrage let up, a long line of Federal troops, flanked by armored trucks called "Machinegun carriers" advanced from the tree line toward the rebel camp. The clouds had cleared and a full moon shined on this apocalyptic battlefield and gave Rickey Pearson enough light to aim his weapon. He sighted in on one of the advance skirmishers and fired, taking the man down. He cycled the weapon and fired again as rifles began to discharge all along the ragged line. Men, most commanded by sergeants or junior lieutenants or just under their own will, began to fight a desperate action to hold off the advancing flood of Federals. Their advance was being checked temporarily, but he did not know for how long. Pearson looked around, he had no idea where the other platoon was. If they were to stand any chance they would have to join together.

"Wait here!" he cried to his men. "I'm going to find the other platoon!" he jumped up from his position and made a mad dash to the right, where he hoped the other platoon would be waiting.

Bullets from rifles and machineguns kicked up mud all around him as he made his mad dash. As he ran, the Federals decided they had had enough of this little game, and the skirmishers loaded up into the trucks to advance in a quick, crushing armored thrust that would break the rebel line.

Just as Pearson made it to his sister platoon, the trucks surged forward, their machine gunners spraying rounds into the rebels as the advanced. Pearson threw himself to the cold, muddy ground and fired back. As he fired the trucks broke through, and kept going, now the rest of the infantry would advance as the armor moved off to attack the rest of the rebel army.

Pearson was up again, running amongst the men of the company, men writhing on the ground in agony and their few uninjured comrades trying their best to both care for them and prepare for the attacking infantry.

"Lieutenant Mayfield! Has anyone seen the lieutenant?" He cried as he ran. Most of the men just ignored him. "Jim! Jim! Where are you?"

"Rickey…" Pearson heard a weak voice call "Rickey…here…"

Pearson looked to his left, lying against a tree was his eldest brother, his uniform jacket soaked in blood, two bleeding holes shining crimson in the moon light.

"No…no Jim…Not you too. No" Pearson claimed in an unsteady voice as he bent down too his brother.

"Listen to me Rickey…your all that's left…you have to make it home…"

"No! I'm gonna get you home Jim, I ain't gonna let you die like Archie and Bill!" Pearson shouted as tears began to well up in his eyes.

"Rickey!" He shouted with all of the strength he had left. "Stop Rickey, please…I'm dyin' and their ain't nothin' you can do to stop it…Just make it home, protect ma and pa…and Lily." He paused for a moment as he took a few labored breaths. "Remember what I told you earlier…tell her…how sorry I am."

"I will," Pearson said quietly.

Jim grabbed his hand and held it as tight as he could. "I love you Rickey, I know we used to fight a lot when we were kids, but you were always my little brother…" He took another labored breath. "I remember…when we first joined…we thought we could conquer the world…" he let out a light chuckle. "What fools we were…" He took one more breath, then fell silent.

"Jim! Jim!" There was no reply; Rickey Pearson's last brother was dead. He cried as he hugged his body to him. Just then he heard boots next to him. And as he looked up, he found himself staring down the muzzle of a Federal rifle. Pearson stared through blurry eyes at the Federal soldier. The two men, two enemies, stared at one another for what seemed like forever but in reality was merely a few seconds. What happened next was not an event that would transpire between two enemies, only between two men. The Federalist lowered his rifle, gave a slight nod, then ran off to join his comrades in the fight.

Pearson stared at the space where the soldier had just been. More times than he could count he had survived events that should have killed him, earning him the nickname "Lucky Rickey" from his comrades. He had been wounded several times, but had always made a fast recovery, and other times emerge completely unscathed from things that should have blown him apart such as the time a mortar shell had landed directly in his foxhole, and failed to detonate. Now he thought he understood why. He wiped the tears from his eyes.

Upon looking around him, he discovered that the battle had advanced far to the rear of him, and his position in the trees was shielding him from the view of the Federal soldiers traveling up the road to continue the pursuit. With all of the strength he had left in him, he hefted his brother's body onto his shoulders, then made his way deeper into the woods. He would find a secluded spot to lay Jim to rest, then he would keep his word, and make it home to defend his adoptive parents, and the one thing in this life that mattered to him more than anything else, Lily.


	5. Chapter Five: Farewell Big Brother

**A Feather in the Hat**

Chapter Five: Farewell Big Brother

Rickey shoveled one last pile of dirt onto the fresh grave. By his reckoning it had been four hours since the Federal assault that had led to his leaving the army, and possibly the very destruction of the army itself. He had no idea what had become of his comrades, and it weighed heavily on his heart that he had abandoned them. To a soldier, the worst thing a man could do was desert. Desertion is not a crime against any country; it is a crime against his fellows, men who he left in harm's way so he could be safe. Rickey Pearson did not want to consider himself a deserter, and in reality it would be hard to accuse him of such as their most likely was not an army left from which to desert. He consoled this feeling of shame as best he could with the knowledge that he had to leave in order to both burry his brother and return home to protect what precious little remained of his family. Now that one task was finished, it was time to get on with the other.

The sun was a dull red orb on the eastern horizon as he sat next to the grave. He had said little as he dug the hole, a mere three feet in depth, and placed Jim's body in. The pain in his heart had more or less silenced him. He, Jim, and Archie had been at Bill's side when he died. He had been mortally wounded in a battle two years ago and had spent his last days lingering in an Army field hospital. When news came two days later that he had taken a turn for the worse the three boys where given a temporary pass out of the trenches so they could see him one last time. Rickey still remembered what a horrible sight it was, how Bill, always so full of life, had struggled with the death angel before finally succumbing. Neither he nor Jim had been with Archie when he fell, he was a part of a failed attack on an artillery position and his body was never recovered. Now he had witnessed his last brothers passing. In a small way he was grateful that Jim had him there as he died so he wouldn't be alone like Archie, but this did not ease the pain.

It had taken him a long time to dig the relatively shallow grave in the frozen ground. He had gone through Jim's belongings before he committed his body to the earth. What few rations and rifle ammunition he had on him Rickey added to his own small supply, along with his oilcloth poncho, which with its negligible weight could be added to his pack and provide him with an extra layer of protection as a ground cloth. He had held Jim's prized .45 caliber automatic pistol. This sidearm was highly valued as it wasn't issued to officers on either side of the line, it was privately purchased from the factory that produced them in a far off country. Upon his commissioning Jim had joined a poker game in the officer's club. Being the excellent card player that he was, he won the pistol on a bluff. Jim would never say who its previous owner was, but rumors sprung up in the company that it was General Calvert, their division commander. While it would have been very useful to him on his journey home, Rickey opted instead to bury Jim's most prized possession with him.

Rickey found another item on his brother's person, an oilcloth pouch. In it were Bill's personal affects, as well as a lighter that Archie had lent to him shortly before his death, and therefore the only personal item he had of his. Jim had intended to burry these items on the farm when he returned home. This made a tear roll down Rickey's cheek. Jim, always the big brother to the three of them, would bring home at least some small token of theirs so they could be back together on the farm again. Rickey added a few personal items of Jim's to the pouch and placed it securely into his own pack.

With the grave covered and properly concealed with ground debris, Rickey stood before the grave one last time. A sudden wave of emotion rode over him, and to quell it, he did what he had been trained to do. He came to rigid attention and snapped up a crisp and professional salute.

"I'll keep them safe. Farewell big brother." He dropped his hand, turned about and retrieved his pack and rifle. He never looked at his brother's final resting place again as, judging by the eastern sunrise, headed south…

It was dark now, and Rickey felt that any moment he would collapse from pure exhaustion. He had been travelling all day, avoiding Federal patrols several times, and trying his best to navigate the snow covered terrain. He found a spot that was secluded and unseen from the trail. Without the energy to even attempt to set up his canvas shelter half, he wrapped himself up in it, along with his to ponchos and wool blanket and fell to the ground. He kept his rifle with him in the bundle, "cocked and locked" in case he needed to use it quickly. His physical exhaustion making the cold all the more bitter, he thought back once more to happier times, hoping the memories would warm him…

Spring had come forth to Polara, expelling winter and its army of snow and ice. It was the planting season now, and the four boys were hard at work, prepping the fields in preparation for the new life that would come from the death and decay of the winter.

The filly had been with him for three months now, every day the he grew closer to the little pony, and she to him. To the surprise of everyone, she began to speak. He marveled at and adored the loose babbling sentences she uttered, proving without the shadow of a doubt that she was not just some ordinary animal, but an intelligent, sentient being.

During the day as Rickey and the others worked, she stayed inside with Miss Davis. This was to keep her safe from any "surprise inspections" from the government. But during the short time in the afternoon when they boys would have their lunch, Rickey would let her outside. Every time Miss Davis would remind him to keep a close eye on both her and the road leading to the house. He would always politely agree even though he didn't need to be told, the conviction he felt to protect her was even stronger now than it was the first time he saw her.

Rickey sat against the wall as he ate his sandwich and watched as the filly happily hopped along in Miss Davis's flower garden. He smiled as she hopped along, a big smile on her face, babbling on in her adorable broken speech. She stopped every now and then to smell the flowers, and would always cheer at the scent. She repeated this several times, then as she stopped at the patch of lilies, she looked back at him. Then, with a look of determination on her face she leaned down and bit one of the flowers off the patch and began to bound back to him.

"I got you fwower wickey!" She exclaimed as she held the flower up to him in her hooves.

Rickey couldn't help but smile as he excepted the gift. "Thank you, it's beautiful."

"Yea! Bewtiful" She said with a smile.

He brought the filly on to his lap and began to pet her mane, and action that she very much enjoyed. He eyed the flower for a moment. In three months he had not thought of a fitting name for her. He wasn't sure if the type of name normally given to animals, or a more "human" name would be appropriate. He smiled, for he finally figured it out. He placed the flower behind her ear. She looked up at him quizzically.

"You no want fwower wickey?"

"No, I love the flower, but I just think it looks better on you, Lily"

She looked confused. "Wiwy, fwower?"

"You are Lily, that's your name." He smiled

"I Wiwy?" She said with growing excitement.

"You're Lily" He hugged her close. "My little Lily."

"Yay!" She shouted as she jumped up. "I Wiwy!"

She then proceeded to run around the yard in excitement. "I Wiwy. I Wiwy!" she ran up to the farm cat, cleaning itself while perched atop a fence post. "Mister Whiskers! I Wiwiy!" The cat looked at her briefly with a look of complete indifference then returned to its previous occupation.

Rickey felt elated about this. He had given the little filly a name, and with it, an identity. She was now undeniably apart of the family. He finished the last bite of his sandwich and called out to her: "Alright Lily, time to go inside."

"Ok Wickey!" She bounded back to him. He led her inside and bent down to hug her.

"I'll see you after a while Lily, I love you."

"I wove you to Wickey!" she ran off into the house "Hey momma! I Wiwy!"

Rickey Pearson couldn't wipe the grin off his face if he tried. He grabbed up his hoe and returned to his work clearing the fields.

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><p>Sorry for another short chapter. I had they day off of work and i figured id crank out another one before i got drunk and started blowing shit up. It seemed appropriate to write about a revolution today, although theirs failed while thankfully our succeeded. Happy Independence Day ya'll, hope you enjoyed this chapter.<p> 


	6. Chapter Six: War and Fools

**A Feather in the Hat**

Chapter six: War and Fools

Despite his exhaustion, Rickey Pearson rose with the dawn. His life as both a soldier and a farmer had programmed him in such a manner, and though he wanted to lay in the relative warmth of his bed roll a while longer, he knew every moment doing so was a moment wasted. A soft bed and a warm house were waiting for him just over the horizon he told himself, and with that he arose and began to pack his kit for the long days march.

Walking over this rough terrain was difficult and tedious, but necessary. He was unsure of how far the Federals had come, and he couldn't risk the normal roads for fear of capture. As he walked he heard a faint buzzing sound coming from the north. He ducked down behind a tree and saw in the sky a flight of four biplane single seat fighters. They wore the colors of a Federal squadron and each carried a load of four "Whistler" fragmentation bombs on hard points on their lower wings. He determined these planes must be heading to bomb a specific target and not on a recon patrol, as the addition of the bombs would have limited their range and performance. As they flew off he watched their flight path turn to the southwest. Rickey would follow as this most likely meant they were headed for a town not yet under Federal control.

The Revolutionary Army Flying Corps had, at least for the last three months, essentially ceased to exist. The fuel that would normally be used for the flying machines was, after the fall of Pemberton, diverted by order of the commanding general to the few remaining ground vehicles left in the Army. This order not only put rifles, if they were available for issue, into the hands of disenfranchised pilots, it also created some deal of resentment in the infantry. The RAFC's planes and equipment were outclassed by the Federal's newer and more modern war machines, but over the last four years and with the influence of partisans and guerillas fighting on the ground, the few surviving veteran pilots who remained had developed tactics for making themselves a nuisance not only to the Federal Air Forces, but to their troops on the ground. It was a great morale boost for an infantryman to see one of their planes swoop down from the skies and tear up a machine gun or artillery emplacement that had caused them so much grief. Now, without the burden of having to deal with the RAFC's troublesome presence, the Federal Air Force had embarked on a campaign of "Terror Raids" on civilian towns to destroy the morale of those who dared to still stand against the unstoppable Federal juggernaut.

It would take another four hours of walking before Rickey reached the apparent target of the raid. It was a small town that he had never been too before. Like many others in this part of Polara, its main industry was farming. As he got closer he realized what ever damage was caused by the raid must have been minimal, as it was intended to be. The "Terror Raids" were designed to affect the people, not the infrastructure. Without opposition from the RAFC, the Federal's would have had no problem leveling a place such as this with their heavy two and four engine bombers, but they wanted small towns like this to remain intact, so when their infantry made it this far they could quickly have the town running at full capacity to produce the products of war necessary for them to continue their campaign of conquest and pacification.

Deciding it was safe to enter the town, he did so, and as he walked through its streets he noticed people with somber expressions picking through the rubble of a few destroyed buildings, the results of the raid. As he neared the town square he noticed a crowd of people, and at its center on a raised platform. On it was a Revolutionary officer, his uniform pristine and a blue silk armband tied carefully around his left arm.

"The Federals are coming my brothers! Our gallant soldiers need everyman capable of bearing arms to assist them in their most valiant fight to ward of the Federal horde!" There was a rumbling amongst the crowd, no one stepped forward. "Come now! When our victory comes, will you be counted among the valiant defenders of our liberty? Or will you be counted among the cowards? Come now brothers, join me in this, our finest hour!" Rickey noticed a distinct lack of military aged men in the crowd. Seven boys, they couldn't be any older than fourteen or fifteen stepped up to the platform. Rickey shook his head and walked on.

"You there, soldier! Halt at once." It was the same recruiting officer, Rickey ignored him and walked on. The officer quickly dismounted the platform and ran up to him. "I said halt soldier!" Rickey still ignored him, until he heard the sound of a .38 service revolver's hammer being drawn back. He stopped and slowly turned to face the recruiter.

"Let me see your pass soldier." The man said from behind the sights of the revolver.

"Ain't got no pass, and I ain't got no quarrel with you. Why don't you just leave me be?" Rickey said with a calm tone

"A deserter then?" The officer said with a happiness that could only come from a Home Guard officer.

Rickey said nothing. He just put his hands up and walked slowly forward.

"That's a good lad." Rickey stopped a few paces from the muzzle of the pistol. "You're under arrest for desertion soldier."

Rickey was taller and larger than the recruiter. His eyes swept left and right, there were no other soldiers to back the man up, only a crowed of curious onlookers. His pistol still pointed at Rickey's face, the officer turned his head slightly. "You see my brothers? This scum here has betrayed our noble cause, and he will be dealt with."

Rickey let out a light chuckle, and just as the recruiter was about to retort, he ducked quickly to the right, his left arm grabbing the officer's gun hand. The pistol discharged, and then Rickey twisted the man's arm downward, causing him to lose his grip on the weapon. As the revolver fell to the ground, Rickey delivered a powerful right hook square on the officer's nose. He fell to the muddy ground, holding his face and moaning in pain.

"Ain't so tough now, are ya?"

"You're a coward! A traitor!" the officer screamed.

Rickey bent down and picked up the revolver and pointed the weapon at the fallen officer. He whimpered in fear. "Please…don't…"

"I'm the coward am I?" He drew back the hammer. "I can tell by the way you talk, and the way you dress…" he kicked mud onto the man's once clean uniform "That you ain't never been in the trenches, ain't never charged the enemy works. I know your type, you're the type that goes from town to town, grabbing up boys to go fight the war for you, then when they're all dead you grab up another bunch." He decocked the pistol and shoved it into his belt. "You can stop your whimperin' I ain't gonna kill you, not because I think you deserve to live, but because I have done enough killin' and I'm sick of it." He bent down and snatched the officer's gun belt then left him there to quiver.

"And you boys, what the hell do you think your doin'? You listen up good, war's lost. I know cause I was there, been there four years and now I'm goin' home. Your duty is the same as mine now, protectin' your families. Go home boys." The seven boys who had been standing in front of the platform began to disperse.

"No…wait!" The officer shouted, still lying on the ground. Rickey turned to glare at him, he said nothing more.

The crowd dispersed. Rickey paused a moment to attach the holster and ammo pouch to his own belt. Then he set off, deciding this town may not be the safest place to stay now. As he approached the outer edges of the town leading to the forest he came from he was stopped by an older woman and a teenager. He recognized him as one of the seven volunteers.

"Wait sir. Please, I must know your name. You saved my son back there…that awful Lieutenant Lawson was trying to get him to go off and fight…I already lost my husband…I couldn't bear to lose him too…"

"Sergeant Richard Pearson ma'am."

"Well mister Pearson I am in your debt." She said as she gave a slight nod.

"No ma'am, that recruiter was an asshole, it felt good to put him in his place. Pardon my language." Rickey added sheepishly

"Well I am still grateful, may I offer you some dinner and perhaps a place to stay?"

"I gotta get back to my family ma'am."

"Please, just for tonight? It's the least I can do." Rickey hesitated for a moment then nodded.

"Oh wonderful! I am Martha Ellis, and this is my son, Thad. Come with us." With that she led the way back to her home.

It was a small two bedroom home near the edge of town, small, but to Rickey it might as well have been a mansion. The thought of sleeping in a proper bed and eating proper food was almost foreign to him. Miss Ellis got to the business of preparing the meal and provided Rickey with a wash basin and some soap so he could at least partially clean himself. She also provided a razor of her dead husbands for him to shave with; it had been weeks since he had last shaved. Feeling at least a bit cleaner than he was before, the three of them sat down to a meal of beef stew and bread that was a bit lacking in beef, but was none the less a feast to a starving rebel like Rickey.

He and Miss Ellis conversed as they ate. Thad was mostly silent, a look of disappointment on his face. This was because he had been stopped from enlisting. While he disapproved, Rickey understood. Thad was just like he was at his age, so eager to go off and fight to change the world, to make it free and safe…for Lily. His thoughts began to stray to her again.

"Mister Pearson?" Miss Ellis was looking at him

Rickey looked up "Huh, oh sorry."

"I asked what regiment you were with."

"The fourteenth, and please, call me Rickey."

"My husband was in the fifty second. He was killed at Willard's Creek."

Rickey nodded. "I'm sorry ma'am. I knew some fellas from the fifty second. Good men, brave men."

Miss Ellis nodded in thanks. Little else was said throughout the rest of the meal. After helping the two wash the dishes and do a few other small chores he laid down on the sofa that was to be his billet for the night. He fell asleep almost instantly, only to be awoken a few hours later by an air raid siren.

Rickey got up, and by instinct, threw himself to the floor. He heard the whistle of bombs falling in the distance followed by explosions, as well as fire from the few machine guns in town trying desperately to hit the attackers. Rickey went to the window. He saw one fire burning but little else.

"They do this all the time." He looked next to him, it was Thad.

"They used try and strafe us in the trenches." By "try" he meant they did, to devastating effect.

"That's why I wanted to join, to stop them from doing it." Thad stared at Rickey with a hint of anger.

"I understand lad." Rickey returned to the couch. "But trust me, there ain't no glory in this war. And what good is it gonna do for you to go and get killed?"

"At least I would have done something! Everybody else has gone, even if they died at least they did something!"

"Like your father?" Thad stared at him with tears in his eyes. "Listen to me Thad. I set out when the war started with my three brothers. They're all dead now. I'm all that's left. That's why I left the army, so I can protect what's left of my family." He put a hand on the young man's shoulder. "That's your duty, keepin' your momma safe, that's how you can serve the cause."

Thad said nothing more, he just nodded. As the young man returned to his bed Rickey was reminded of a similar conversation, many years ago…

The two Davis's and their four adoptive children sat around the dinner table. They weren't eating; instead they were having a discussion in this late hour.

"I'm tellin' you, war is coming. May not be for a month, may not be for another ten years, but the people can only take so much before they'll rise up!" Jim Mayfield said with great passion, pointing to the newspaper at the center of the table that detailed new laws passed that limited travel within Polara and new taxes enacted on income and goods.

"Jim, fighting a war would be foolish. What hope would this "rebel army" you speak of have against the federal government? I served my required time years ago, and I can attest to how powerful that army is."

"They'll join us! When they see that we are fighting for freedom they'll come over to our side!"

"And what's gonna happen when all of our young men go off to war huh?"

"Were gonna win our freedom that's what!"

This discussion was rapidly turning into a one on one debate between Jim and Mr. Davis with the others looking on as spectators. The back and forth carried on for a good while until it was interrupted by a voice coming from the doorway leading to the kitchen.

"Rickey?" he turned, it was Lily.

"What's wrong?" He asked with concern.

"I couldn't sleep, can I have a glass of water?"

"Sure thing." He got up and walked to the sink. As he retrieved the glass and filled it the debate continued. He rather wished they wouldn't talk about such things in front of Lily but it would be foolish to get between the two right now. He gave her the glass and watched as she took it in her hooves and gulped it down. It had been well over a year now since his beloved Lily had come into his life and he marveled at how fast she matured. She was still small, but she spoke clearly now and had the maturity level of a human child at least two years older than her. He retrieved the glass and put in the sink and led her back to the bedroom they shared.

As he tucked her into the small bed he had built for her she looked up at him with a questioning expression.

"What were you guys talking about?"

"Oh nothing, don't worry about it." He said as he petted her mane.

"Papa said something about you all going to war? Where's war?"

"Uh, it's not a place, it's a thing."

"What is it?" Her large eyes growing more curious.

"Nothing…just don't worry about it."

"Please tell me, I wanna know. Is it something bad?"

"Yes, it's when…" he paused, trying to think of how to explain such a complex issue to someone so young. "It's when bad people try and take things from us, and we have to fight them to make them stop."

"But momma said fighting is bad and you shouldn't do it." She looked up at him and he shrank from her gaze.

"Momma's right, but sometimes you have to fight, even if it's bad, to do good things and keep the ones you love safe."

"That's silly, how can something bad make good things?"

Rickey chuckled a little. "I don't know, I guess it is kind of silly."

"I think the bad people should just stop being bad, that way there isn't a war and we can all get along and be friends!"

"Your right, I just wish everyone else was as smart and kind as you Lily."

"You're not going to this war are you Rickey?" she asked with deep concern.

"I…I don't know…"

"I don't want you too, I love you Rickey, I don't want you to go away and fight. Who will play with me if you go, and…and keep me safe from all the scary things?"

Rickey was choked up by this. He hugged the filly tight. "You're my little Lily flower, and I'll always be here to play with you and keep you safe. Ok?"

"Ok Rickey," she said with a smile. He kissed her on the forehead, then he walked out of the room and looked back. "Goodnight Lily, I love you."

"Love you too Rickey!" she said with a smile then he shut the door…

The war would not start for several more years, but as he looked back now he realized he had lied. He thought of his brother and his dying words "_What fools we were." _Rickey laid back on the couch and shut his eyes. He would have a lot of amends to make when he finally made it home…


	7. Chapter Seven: Just over the Horizon

**A Feather in the Hat**

Chapter 7: Just Over the Horizon

"Oh I do wish you could stay another day. I feel much safer with you around." Mrs. Ellis stated in a wishful tone.

"I'm real sorry ma'am, but I really gotta get goin' its late as it is."

"Oh I understand, you must get back to your family. How far is it?"

"Riverview, on a small farm to the south of town."

"That's what? At least a two day walk right?" She said with concern.

"I hope no more than two days…"

"Wait one moment dear." She turned and walked back into the house. Rickey turned to Thad who was standing next to him on the front porch. He raised an eyebrow to the young man and in turn Thad just shrugged. Mrs. Ellis returned a moment later.

"Then take this with you dear." She produced a small loaf of bread, three potatoes, and some salted pork wrapped in a cloth.

"No, I couldn't, you need this…" He said as he backed up slightly.

"Take it, please. It's not much, I wish I could offer more. Thad and I will manage, but please, take it."

"I can't…"

"Take it." She said more forcefully. Rickey just sighed and nodded. "Good, now give me your pack."

Rickey removed his pack and set it down in front of him. Mrs. Ellis knelt down and began to pack away the food. As she worked a bundle fell to the ground. "Oh, sorry." She picked the bundle up. "Oh, letters from home?" She handed the bundle to him.

"Yea…" They were all letters from Lily, four years' worth of letters, all wrapped together in string and partially covered in oil cloth to protect them from water. For the entire duration of this war, his entire connection with her fit in a bundle he could hold in one hand.

"Are you okay dear?" Rickey had been staring at the bundle for a few moments now.

"Yes ma'am, just been a while I guess."

Mrs. Ellis just smiled. "Well it won't be much longer will it?" She handed him his pack. He placed the straps on his shoulders and slung his rifle.

"I suppose not…" He looked to the two of them and smiled "I can't thank you enough. Thad, you take care of your momma you hear?"

"Will do Rickey."

He smiled, "Good luck to both of you, and thanks again."

"And to you Rickey, now go get back to your family, I'm sure they miss you."

The ragged sergeant said no more as he turned about and began another long day's march…

Marching from sun up to sun down was nothing new to him. Should he become paralyzed tomorrow Richard Pearson could rest easy knowing that he had, in the last four years, walked a life time's worth.

As the sun began to make its final descent into the western horizon he decided to stop for the night. The full nights rest and proper meal he had the night before had rejuvenated him in body and spirit, and he was sure he had made greater progress today than he had prior. He went about the motions of any soldier on campaign, deciding that he would use the small amount of daylight that remained to set up a proper camp for the night, hoping that the extra effort now would benefit him on tomorrows march.

Normally, were he still with the Army, he would pair up with another infantryman for the night, they would attach their two shelter halves together, and if no proper tent poles could be had, fix bayonets and stick their rifles blade first into the ground, securing the tent ends to the trigger guards. There were no other soldiers to share his equipment with, and he would not compromise the quick access to his rifle by using it as a pole, so instead he found two saplings about six feet apart, and secured the shelter half to them with a few short sections of rope he had. Fortunately the trees were positioned in such a way that the single section of canvas gave him ample protection from the bitter winter wind. He cleared away the snow from beneath the canvas, then laid down one of the two ground cloths then wrapped his wool blanket and the other ground cloth around his shoulders as he sat up right beneath the shelter half, he wasn't ready to sleep yet.

He removed his cartridge belt and sat it next to him, leaving his recently "liberated" revolver in its holster but with the flap unsnapped for quick access. Pearson cradled his rifle in his lap, not just for protection, but in a strange way for companionship as well. The battered Tredegar was really the only friend he had left. He then stuck the long bayonet into the ground, turning it into a makeshift candle holder by sticking a half spent beeswax candle in the barrel band. His lighter served to make use of the candle, its small flame not bright enough to be detected from the far of trail which was to his back and therefore shielded by the canvas.

Cigarettes, once in ample supply to the soldiers of the Revolutionary Army, had become one of the scarcest of commodities, so scarce that in fact that the almost empty pack Pearson retrieved from his pocket was taken off of a dead Federalist. He had been carefully rationing the little white rolls of tobacco since he had come into their possession and now there were two left. He decided on a course of action, he would smoke one now, and save the last for the reunion with what was left of his family. Miss Davis would throw a fit if she saw it so he would have to smoke it behind the barn like when he was younger. The thought made him happy, it would be just like he was young again, but then he was saddened, as he realized the three boys he shared the sinful pleasure with were no more. He pushed the thought from his mind as he lit the cigarette with the candle, not wanting to waste any more precious lighter fluid.

The cigarette was surprisingly good for one taken off the body of a Federal private, but then again the Federals had better everything, better gear, better artillery, better airplanes, and better cigarettes. He retrieved one more item from his pack, the bundle of letters that Miss Ellis had accidentally knocked from his bag earlier. He unwrapped the twine holding the papers together and began to look through them, page by page.

He stopped at a logical place, the first letter he had received from her. It was dated the day after he and his brothers had left the farm. Of course he did not receive it for another two weeks, when he was in the training camp in Pemberton. Of all the mismanaged and inefficient departments of the Revolutionary Army, he was convinced that the postal service must have been the worst. He couldn't really blame them, after all the Army didn't exactly have an abundance of men to spare for noncombat positions such as that, but still he wondered just how many letters she had sent to him, or he to her, that never reached their destination. It was for this reason that a year or two into the conflict he instructed her in a somewhat coded way to not make any more references to the fact that she was a pony. It was common knowledge that the Federals had a whole department of soldiers that scoured through captured letters even from the lowliest private to try and find some intelligence. It was the same reason he was barred from being specific about his actions or location.

He leaned closer to the fire and began to read the letter he had read many times before.

_Dear Rickey _

_Momma said that I can write to you as much as I want to and she will mail it, so I'm going to write every day! I woke up this morning and I was expecting to see you there, sitting on the edge of your bed pulling your boots on and getting ready to go to work, but you weren't there. It took me a minute to remember that you had gone off to the Army and then I was sad. You have only been gone a day and I already miss you so much! I miss my good morning hug and goodnight kiss, I miss sitting with you at lunch time and taking a walk after dinner. I miss my best friend. I know you will be home soon though. Momma said you and the boys will be in your training camp soon learning how to be soldiers, Papa said to look out for the drill sergeants, whatever those are. I want you to study real hard so you can be the best soldier out there and you can end the war quickly and come home. I'm studying hard to, momma is still giving me lessons every day, I hate math! But I'll study hard like I promised. You keep your promise too! I love you Rickey, be safe and come home soon._

_Love,_

_Lily_

He put down the letter. He remembered his own experiences during that time, how he thought that he could never be more miserable. Drill, drill, drill, drill, chow call, drill, drill, physical exercise, drill, drill, chow call, drill, drill, sleep. All the while being screamed at by a Drill Sergeant, he was convinced his had spawned from Hell itself. He chuckled in a bitter way, for it was certainly to get worse. He placed the letter back in the stack, and after some sifting, grabbed another. This one was written during the winter of the first year of the war, while he was freezing in the winter camp just west of Marlin, a town a mere thirty miles from Polara City.

_Dear Ricky _

_I can't believe it's been eight months since you left. I wish I could say that the time has just flown by but that would be a lie. I'm sorry for getting so upset before; I know that not all of the letters are going to make it to you. I hope you get this one; I really want you to know how much I miss you. Do you remember how much fun we had playing in the snow? How you, me, and the boys would have snow ball fights and make snow men? I made one the other day, it just wasn't the same. I like to read the newspaper a lot now, momma usually reads it first and takes out parts that she doesn't want me to see though. I was reading this morning that when spring comes that the Army is going to go to Polara City and end the war! Is that true? I know you can't talk about that stuff but I really hope it is. If that means you will be coming home in the spring then there is nothing I want more with my whole heart! I hope you're staying warm, this sure is a cold winter! I think it's because of how sad so many people must be, I know a lot of soldiers have died. I can't even imagine what I would do if something happened to you…so please be careful! Momma worries about all of you boys every day, Papa does to, but he hides it. You know how he is. I guess the newspapers were wrong when they said that the war would be over by Christmas. I hope you have a good Christmas in your camp. I know you'll still be here sitting by the tree with me on Christmas morning, cause you're always in my heart. _

_Love,_

_Lily_

He remembered that Christmas very well. He remembered having piquet duty on Christmas Eve in the forward trenches. He remembered being freezing cold and willing to give all that he owned in this world to go home just for one night, that night, to see Lily and sit with her by a roaring fire. No shots were fired that night, or the next day, one small act of human kindness and brotherhood. The great offensive however was a failure. He remembered charging over the top of the front line trenches on February 23rd, his spirits high and a rebel yell in his lungs, only to crawl back into that same trench line before March had finished its first day. During the winter the Federals had passed a draft law, and as a result their ranks were swelled with thousands of conscripts.

The candle was burning down near to the end now. He did not want to expend the entire thing as it was the last one he had left. He decided to read one more before he extinguished the light. He reached for the last letter in the pile; it was a one he had read many times. This was the last letter he had received and he had it for four months.

_Dear Rickey,_

_Life gets harder everyday here, and it's made all the worse without you here to comfort me. Momma and Papa are having a hard time just getting basic supplies. Papa hasn't been able to get any gas for his car in a while now, so he walks to work every day. He leaves very early in the morning, and comes home very late at night. Its taking a toll on him, I can see it. Most of his clients anymore are just kids caught stealing food to try and feed themselves and their families. He knows that they don't have any money but he tries his best anyway. The Home Guard has taken control of Riverview, and they've become the very tyrants that they claim to be fighting. They shoot those boys Rickey…they shoot them for taking a loaf of bread! I cry when I think about it. Is this what the world has come to? Come home Rickey, I beg you, please come home! I need you here, I need you to hug me and tell me everything is going to be ok. You always told me to have faith, that to believe that there are still good people in this world and that one day we would be free but I'm losing that faith Rickey! Every day I think about you, about how much I miss you, about how much I love you, and every day I am terrified that a messenger will knock on the door to tell momma and papa that you have been killed, that you made "The noble sacrifice for our glorious cause." Just like Archie and Bill, and every time I cry, I cry until I cannot cry anymore. Come home to me Rickey, please, before it's too late. _

_With all of my love,_

_Lily_

Pearson put the letters back into his pack and extinguished the candle. He may have read that last letter a hundred times, but the pain and fear in those words still haunted him. He laid down on the ground cloth and pulled the blanket over him. _I'm coming Lily, I'm coming. _He reassured himself, for he knew this time that home was really just over the horizon.


	8. Chapter Eight: Home

**A Feather in the Hat**

Chapter 8: Home

The last time Richard Pearson had traveled under any but his own power had been about a month ago, when he and his regiment had been quickly thrown into every truck the army could muster to plug a hole that had formed in the line protecting Pemberton. He remembered how bravely, and desperately, his unit had fought to hold that line, and hold it they did. He still remained convinced that the Fourteenth Light Infantry Regiment was the finest fighting unit in the Revolutionary Army, and despite all that had happened he was still very proud to have been one of them. All the bravery of that honored regiment wasn't enough to stem the tide of Federal troops however, as once they realized they couldn't break through this line of starving farmers, they shifted the axis of fighting a half mile west, and broke through a line of dismounted cavalry, who despite their own bravery could not withstand the hoard and their new man portable light and submachine guns dubbed "Trench Brooms." Once their line broke the Federals rushed through, the front line retreated and so began the Fall of Pemberton. There were no more truck rides after that, the few vehicles that remained were used to haul what supplies the quartermaster still had, and to tow the few field guns that weren't outright abandoned. Every solider now walked, including the wounded. Those who were incapable of making the grueling march were abandoned, their fates unknown to their comrades.

Now was different. Now he was not clutching his rifle in anticipation of yet another fight while crammed into a two and a half ton truck with the rest of his platoon. In fact now he was not in a truck at all, but resting in a cart of corn being driven by an old farmer and pulled by a team of two draft horses. It was an interesting change of pace, and an advantageous one as well.

Pearson had run into the farmer as he was crossing one of his fields earlier that morning. The farmer had run out of his house with an old muzzle loading shotgun, Rickey had met him with the muzzle of his Tredegar. A brief standoff occurred before the farmer spoke:

"You a reb boy?"

"Was" Pearson replied from behind the sights of his weapon.

The farmer lowered his shotgun. "Shoulda figured, you too damn dirty be a fed." The farmer walked closer to him, despite having a rifle pointed at his face. "Whatcha doin' here boy? Last I checked reb army's that a ways." He pointed a crooked finger north.

"News must travel slow these days, cause their ain't no 'reb army' no more." Pearson replied as he lowered his rifle. "At least there wasn't when I left a few days ago."

The old man scratched his chin as he pondered for a moment. "So that mean wars over?"

"Damned if I know, I've been in this war for four years, if it wants to keep going it can do so without me, I'm just trying to get home."

"Hmm." The old man shook his head. "I reckon that's fair. Me, never really cared too much one way or another, I'm too damn old to fight anyhow. My nephew was a reb, good kid, last I heard he was a prisoner in one of them fed camps, probably dead by now. Broke my sister's heart."

"Sorry to hear that, I lost my three brothers." Pearson added solemnly.

"Damn shame ain't it? I never could figure out why it is that men can't work out their problems without butcherin' one another."

"Yea…" Pearson couldn't figure it out either, but now wasn't the time to be worrying about such matters. "Well, thanks for not shootin' me."

"Oh this?" He gestured to the old shotgun. "I don't reckon I coulda hit you anyhow, this here scattergun's as old as I am." He let out a rough chuckle.

"Regardless, I best be getting goin', lotta ground to cover before nightfall."

"Well hang on now boy, which ways home for y'all?"

Rickey looked at him puzzled for a moment then gestured to the south "Riverview."

The old man chuckled "I reckon y'all in luck, I'm haulin' a load of corn into town to sell, reckon you'd like to ride along? Do us both some good, make the trip faster for you and give me some protection from them damn bandits."

"Bandits?" Pearson questioned.

"Oh yea! Bandits been all up and down the road leading to town, robbin' folks, most of 'em just starving kids and what not. I figure what with them two guns you got, and bein' a soldier and all, you could help me if I run into trouble."

"Well…I ain't looking for any more trouble, but if it gets me home faster than alright."

"Sounds good to me, I'll go 'n rig up the cart"…

Rickey had been enjoying the comfort, or as much comfort as a cart full of corn cobs could provide, for the better part of four hours. He kept an eye out for bandits, but he found it hard to completely focus, it wasn't until he was completely stationary like this that he could appreciate just how sore he truly was. He laid back in the cart, trying to take his mind of the aching pain.

_Clip clop Clip clop_

The sound of the two horses calmly trotting along the road brought back memories of Lily. They didn't sound exactly the same, but it was close. He laid back the cart, the sound resonating in his ears…

_Clip clop Clip clop._

Rickey Pearson crouched by the side of the barn, waiting for his prey to come into striking distance.

_Clip clop Clip clop._

It was getting closer now, Rickey steadied himself, ready to give the killing blow before his prey even knew what hit her. Just then she rounded the corner, and Rickey jumped out.

"I've got you now!"

"AAAAAAHHHHHH!" Lily screamed as Rickey pounced, but she jumped a foot to the rear at the last instant, and all Rickey got for his efforts was a mouthful of dirt.

"Ha ha! You're gonna have to do better than that Rickey!" She taunted

Rickey spat out the dirt. "Grrrr! I'm gonna get you!" He jumped to his feet.

Lily let out an adorable squeak as she turned to run away. It took a moment for Rickey to regain his footing, but once he did he gave chase, and quickly began to gain on his opponent.

"You can't get away from me Lily!" He shouted as he ran.

"You're cheating!" She screamed

"How am I cheating?"

"You…your legs are to long! It's not fair!" She pleaded.

"You're just a sore loser!" He yelled in response. Mere feet separated them now, with Rickey still gaining. Lily began to flap her little wings as fast as she could. Rickey pounced again, but Lily jumped at the last moment. Rickey once more hit the ground hard, and once again he had no filly in his grasp, yet as he looked up she was nowhere to be seen.

"What the hell?" He heard flapping from above and rolled on his back. There he was greeted by the sight of his beloved filly held aloft a mere three feet off the ground by furiously flapping wings.

"Lily…you're flying!" Rickey exclaimed. For months now she had been desperately trying to attain flight by flapping her small wings ever harder, but to no avail. He figured that was something she would have been taught by her parents, parents she would never know. He tried his best to help her in their absence but all he knew of flight came from reading about airplanes in books. But here she was, flying under her own power, and it made him extraordinarily proud.

"I'm doing it Rickey! I'm doing it!" She shouted with a grand smile, which promptly turned into a devious grin. "You won't catch me now!"

"Hey! Now who's cheating!?" Rickey called out as Lily began to gain forward momentum at an altitude just above his reach.

"Sore loser!" She replied with a giggle. She began to fly faster, albeit with diminishing stability. She either ignored this or didn't realize it, as she was trying her hardest to beat Rickey. She taunted him as she flew, to which he could only smile and laugh, he had never seen her so confident, nor so arrogant. He kept up the "chase" for a good while longer, the competitiveness in him had waned, he was just happy to see her accomplish what she had been working so hard to achieve. Then she began to fall.

"Lily! Be careful!" but it was too late, her inexperience took over, and she plummeted into the ground. Rickey slid to a halt next to her, she was crying and holding her left front foreleg.

"Oh Lily! Are you okay?"

"No!" She managed to say between sobs.

"Let me see it." He reached for her leg but she whimpered and withdrew. "Come on Lily, let me see your leg." Finally she relented. He took her tiny leg in his hand and examined it gingerly. Much to his relief there was nothing broken, just a scrape that was bleeding lightly.

"It's ok, just a little scrape."

"But it hurts!" She cried.

"I know sweetheart." He gently picked her up and held her close. "Let's get you inside and cleaned up."…

He set the still whimpering Lily on the kitchen counter and turned on the faucet. "Now this is gonna sting a little, but just for a second." He moved her injured leg under the water and touched a bar of soap to it. She instantly yelped and her leg recoiled.

"That burns Rickey!"

"I know Lily but it has to be done. I gotta get that clean else you could get sick." He remembered when she had fallen ill that winter and wasn't willing to risk anything that could cause a fever like that again. "Now I need you to be my brave little Lily flower ok?"

"Ok…" He began to gently rug the soap into the abrasion. She whimpered and flinched at the start, but held true.

"There, all done." He said with a smile. He carried her to the table where he dried her leg and dressed it with a cotton bandage. "How does it feel now?"

"Still hurts…"

"I know, but it'll be healed up before you know it. Besides, you flew Lily! I'm so proud of you." He hugged her close, despite the mishap it was still a joyous occasion.

"Yea, well, I'm never flying again…" she pouted.

He looked down at her quizzically, "What, why?"

"Cause it's too scary! I don't wanna crash anymore, it hurts…" She looked away sheepishly.

"Lily…" He picked her up and put her on his lap to where she was facing him. "Did I ever tell you about the first time I rode a bike?"

"No…" She was still defiant, but interested.

"I was young, just five or six I reckon, and I always wanted a bike. That year my parents, my real parents that is…" he paused for a moment then continued. "They surprised me that year with a bicycle for my birthday." He looked down at Lily and smiled. "Oh I was so excited! I imagined myself riding everywhere on that bike, I imagined I could ride it over the water and see the great countries beyond the sea."

"You can't ride a bike on the water, that's silly!" She laughed

"Heh, I know Lily, but I guess I wasn't as smart as you back then." He nuzzled her briefly then went back to his story. "Anyways my pa took me outside to teach me how to ride it. He explained to me how to pedal and how to steer, he probably told me how to break too but I wasn't paying attention, I was probably trying to figure out make the darn thing fly." He chuckled and Lily, despite trying her best to hide it, did too. "So I get on the seat and he tells me to start pedaling while he holds on. I start going forward, and as soon as he lets me go I pedal as fast as I can, get goin' real fast. I was having the time of my life until…"

"Until what Rickey?" Lily questioned

"WHAM!" he slammed his hand down on the table, which gave the little filly quite a start. "Ran right smack into a mailbox."

"Really?"

"Yep, had to get a few stitches in my chin." He tilted his head up so she could see the little white scar that remained. She touched at it gingerly with her hoof.

"Anyways, the point is that my pa told me something after, when I told him I didn't want to ride the bike no more. He said 'It doesn't matter how hard we fall, long as we get back up after.'" He looked down at her again. "And you know what I did after that?"

"Got back on the bike?"

"That's right."

Lily shook her head in agreement, and then looked down at her hooves. "Rickey, can I ask you somethin'?"

"Of course Lily."

She looked him in the eye. "Do you…do you ever miss your mommy and daddy?"

He sighed. "Yea Lily, I miss my folks." The truth was he tried his best not to think about them much. After the two of them died during the smallpox epidemic he was out on his own and didn't have time to mourn them. Even now that he did have a home he still attempted to distract himself whenever the thought of them would come up. "Miss 'em a lot really. Just like I'm sure you miss yours."

"Well…I don't really remember mine Rickey…I wish I could…" a tear rolled down her cheek. Rickey brought her closer and held her tighter.

"I know Lily, and I wish there was something I could do about that. I wish you parents could see what an amazing pony you are becoming." Lily smiled despite the tears. "But I'll tell you somethin' If my folks hadn't of…hadn't of passed on, then I wouldn't have been taken in by the Davis's, and I wouldn't have found you…and there ain't a single thing on this planet I would give that up for." He felt a tear roll down his own cheek. "And don't you ever forget it."

"I won't…ever…" She smiled. "You're my big brother and my bestest friend! I love you Rickey."

He kissed her on the forehead. "I love you too Lily." He cleared his throat and got up. "Now, how about we give it another shot, hmm?"

"Ok Rickey." She smiled as he picked her up. The two of them left the house…

His time in the land of pleasant memories was abruptly cut short as the cart came to a halt. Pearson got up and looked at the old farmer. "What the hell was that?"

The farmer said nothing, just pointed directly ahead of them. There, about a hundred yards up the road where two men on horseback.

"Bandits?" He asked the old man.

"You tell me kid, my eyes ain't worth a damn no more."

Pearson focused on the two figures. One could be seen carrying what looked like a cut down shotgun, both where wearing handkerchiefs over their faces.

"Yea, I reckon they are." He grabbed up his Tredegar and dismounted the cart.

"Wait now, where the hell you goin'?"

"Home, and I ain't lettin' these bastards get in my way." He was so close now. He began to slowly walk forward. "I don't want to do anymore killin', but if these fellas ain't gonna move then I'll move 'em myself." He advanced slowly, deciding not to take the first shot, hopefully the sight of a soldier in uniform, carrying his battle rifle at the ready, would be enough to dissuade them. He realized he was wrong after the shotgun boomed and the buckshot kicked up dirt mere feet from him. The two riders now split and both rode in wide circling paths around the cart.

Instinct took over, He retreated to the cart and, using it as cover began firing back at the bandits. He sighted in on the one moving to the left and fired. He cycled the bolt and fired again, and again without scoring a hit upon his opponent. In the heat of the moment he was forgetting to lead his fast moving opponent. It had been years since he had shot at a mounted man, all regular cavalry had permanently dismounted on both sides at least two years ago, and before then only the most foolhardy of troopers would ride into battle. As the bandit drew close he began firing a pistol. Pearson ducked to avoid the fire, and once he had rode past he lined up his rifle. The Tredegar slammed against his shoulder and the bandit screamed, but stayed on his horse. He cycled his rifle and took careful aim. When he pulled the trigger the man fell from the saddle, and was still.

"Good shot kid!" The old man clapped him on the shoulder.

"Thanks…" He turned towards the farmer. "Get down!" He cried. The second bandit was mere feet away and lining up his shotgun. Pearson took the old man to the ground just as the weapon boomed, taking a sizeable chunk out of the wooden sidewall. The old man got to his feet surprisingly fast and grabbed his own shotgun.

"Shoot up my cart you sum bitch!" He pulled the trigger but nothing happened. The hammer fell and the cap burst, but no shot left the muzzle.

The bandit, while initially frozen in fear, saw his chance and reached for the pistol in his own belt. Just as he got the revolver clear Pearson's rifle fired. The bandit took the round in his chest and slumped over, and was thrown from the saddle as his mount reared. Pearson grabbed the reins as he rushed forward and handed them over to the old farmer. He knew his rifle was empty so he drew his revolver and pointed it the fallen bandit. He made no effort to resist, and just lay there, chocking on his own blood. Pearson knelt down and removed his handkerchief, confirming what he feared. He was just a boy, not more than thirteen, his face having never known a razor.

"Damnit kid." Pearson muttered. The boy took his last breath, and then went quiet.

"Thanks," He heard the old man say quietly. He just grunted in response…

The other bandit's horse had run off, Pearson had no idea where it went and was in no mood to track it down. This bandit was just like the other, a kid. He left him where he fell and took his weapon, a .38 service revolver identical to his only much worse for wear. He took it and the twelve rounds the boy had on him and gave the revolver and six rounds to the farmer, who was reluctant but eventually took it. The other bandit had the cut down shotgun and a revolver, both black powder guns in bad shape and of little use to him, so he gave those to the farmer as well.

"If you don't mind I'm gonna take this horse," Pearson stated, referring to the animal the farmer still had by the reins.

"Fine by me." He replied. "Reckon we should bury them boys?"

"You can if you feel inclined." He said as he climbed into the saddle.

"I could use your help…"

"Look, I seen enough men die out in no man's land that ain't gonna get proper burials. These fellas, boys or not, made their choice. I ain't gonna waste more time to bury them." The truth was he didn't want to look at them anymore, the situation aside Pearson could relate to them more than he cared to, after all it wasn't so long ago that he was a young boy with no family or prospects for the future that had to resort to stealing to stay alive.

The farmer just gave a solemn nod. "Well, I reckon this is where we part ways."

"Yea."

"You take care o' yourself kid, try and find some peace." The old man extended his hand and Pearson took it.

"Best of luck to you, hope your nephew comes back some day." With that he turned the horse and began down the road…

The last time Richard Pearson had been on horseback was two years ago. He and a couple of other soldiers from his company had volunteered to ride with a group of partisans to blow up a rail bridge. It had been good fun; they encountered only token resistance from a small patrol, which the partisans quickly dispatched. It was quite a sight to see that bridge, which had no doubt taken moths to builds, be destroyed in an instant, and that night they had quite the celebration. Good food, plentiful liquor, and a fair amount of women to go around.

Now he was doing his best to remember the riding skills he had learned from those rough men, and from his own experiences on the farm. It had taken him some time but he had now gotten the hang of it.

The closer he got the more his anticipation rose. More and more familiar sights greeted his eyes as he galloped through the old woods. These same woods that he had so often traversed in his youth now served to guide him home. As he looked around he really wondered if it had truly been four years. He felt young again.

He turned the running horse down another path. This one, after a few minutes, lead to another, which ran along the base of a hill. It was beyond this hill, if memory served, that his home was located. He turned his mount and urged it up the long slope. He could feel his heart in his throat, butterflies in his stomach. For four long years, for countless battles fought and miles marched he had dreamed of this moment.

He crested the hill, and then suddenly jerked on the reins to bring the animal to a halt.

For there was no house, only the burned out skeleton of what was once his home.

He couldn't breathe, he could feel his vision blurring. No, this couldn't be true. I couldn't, it can't.

He kicked the horse's flanks hard, had he been wearing spurs he would have pierced the animal. It reared, but Pearson held firm, and began a mad gallop forward. As he held on to the running animal a million thoughts ran through his mind, and were all silenced in an instant. On his right were two bodies lying in the snow, a man and a woman.

"NOOO!" He cried. He pulled hard on the reins again, and without waiting for the animal to come to a complete halt he jumped clear of the saddle. He ran to where the two bodies lay, and there was no mistaking their identity, they were Mr. and Mrs. Davis.

He fell to his knees and wept. How could this happen? Why? He had no answers. Then suddenly he remembered.

"Lily! LILY!" he cried out as he got to his feet. He saw no sign of her. She had to be alive, somewhere, if nothing else for God's sake she had to be. He ran around the house screaming her name, with ever diminishing home that she would appear, but to no avail. She was gone.

Despite all the losing battles in which he had participated, all the grueling retreats to which he had become accustomed, he had never felt what he felt now, the feeling of true and total defeat. He didn't weep anymore; even that ability had left him. He turned toward the barn which had somehow been spared the inferno that had consumed his home.

He walked toward it the same way a prisoner of war marches toward a prison camp, knowing he will likely die there. The war was over for Sergeant Richard Pearson of the 14th. He had fought his last battle, and lost. He had no one to blame for this conclusion other than himself. He was the one who decided to go for a soldier instead of stay at home where he belonged. To go off and win great glory instead of protect what really mattered most. Lily, his cherished pony, the only living thing on this planet that he had true unconditional love for, was gone, and it was his fault. He felt he didn't even deserve the mercy of a bullet to finish him off, but he would allow himself this, as to waste away in the snow would be how Rickey would have died. Sergeant Richard Pearson on the other hand was a soldier, and he would die like one.

He leaned against the wall on the inside of the barn and slumped to the floor. He reached down to the holster and unsnapped the flap. He drew the revolver from its leather and held it for a moment. He thought back to Jim's dying words: _What fools we were. _

He placed the pistol against his temple. "I'm so sorry Lily…" He touched his finger to the trigger.

Then a rustling came from the hayloft.

For some inexplicable reason his soldier's instinct kicked in one last time and he got to his feet. He pointed the pistol towards the loft. It had to be one of the men that burned his home and killed his family. One last kill…

"Show yourself! Come on God damnit!" He ordered.

A figure appeared from the hayloft, but Pearson did not fire. It was not a human, but a pony. A pony with a blue coat and a chestnut mane.

The pistol fell to the dirt floor of the barn.

"…Rickey?"

"Lily." He was frozen in his tracks. Was he hallucinating? He couldn't believe it, but he wanted to, he had to.

"Rickey? Is…is that…is that really you?"

He made no reply, his entire body was numb, but somehow he began to move forward. Steadily the forward lurch became a walk, and that walk a run, and that run a mad sprint.

"Lily!"

"Oh Rickey!" she leapt form the hayloft stretching her wings wide. They caught the air and sent her into a fast glide straight into him. They collided and he wrapped his arms tightly around her. The force of the impact threw him off balance. As he feel to earth he instinctively shifted his weight so that he would land on his back. He hit hard but he didn't feel it. All he could feel now was her, the warmth of her body, the beat of her heart so strong and full to be felt despite his tunic and greatcoat, her soft mane in his hand, her breath on his neck as she sobbed, her wet tears on his cheek.

He too wept, not tears of joy nor sorry, but a strange middle ground that can only come from a man who had experienced both unimaginable tragedy and indescribable joy mere moments apart. He gripped her tighter; as if he loosened his embrace even in the slightest she would be gone.

He kissed her on top of her head. "Never again Lily…" and he meant it, for all the armies of hell and the Federal government could not pry her from his embrace…

* * *

><p>I cant believe its taken me this long just to get to this part of the story. Kinda ridiculous. For those of you that are still reading i hope you enjoyed. I'm really going to make every effort to update quicker.<p> 


	9. Chapter Nine: A Very Small Miracle

**A Feather in the Hat**

Chapter 9: A Very Small Miracle

He had no idea how long he laid there. It was as if time no longer applied to Rickey Pearson. His tears had dried up, he just lie on the cold dirt floor of the old barn. He felt nothing save for the weight and warmth of the pony that lay on top of him. He knew that he must soon rise. He had many things to attend to, secure the farm against further attack, take stock of what supplies remained, and to bury the bodies that lay outside. He knew he had to get up and take charge of he and Lily's shared destiny, but not yet. The great flurry of emotions had overwhelmed him, the sorry, the joy, the pain, the warmth, all combined into something his mind simply could not process.

"I'm sorry Rickey…" Lily said quietly.

It took a moment for the words to register in the battle worn soldier's mind. "What?" was all he could muster.

"Momma, papa, I couldn't stop it…" She broke into another fit of tears.

It took an intense concentration to coordinate his motor skills, but after a moment he rose to a sitting position with Lily on his lap, he was so much bigger than he remembered.

"What are you talking about Lily?"

"The Federals…they came yesterday…and…" She paused to take a deep breath. "Momma told me to run into the barn and hide…she told me not to come out, no matter what." She shuddered visibly, to which Rickey hugged her tighter. "They took momma and papa out of the house. They began yelling at papa, saying he had illegal weapons and was supplying rebels…" She trailed off as more tears began to form in her eyes.

"Lily, its ok, you don't have too…"

She shook her head. "No, no, I do. Papa said that they were lying; I could see the whole thing from the window in the hayloft. Their commander, I guess he was a lieutenant, that's what everyone called him…he told the other soldiers to search the house and the barn. They came in here, I was so scared…they looked everywhere and finally they found the hidden door to the cellar. They brought up the guns…" She closed her eyes. "And they shot them…" she said so quiet it was almost a whisper. "They shot them Rickey! I saw it, I saw them do it! They shot them right there and lit the house on fire! I did nothing…I just hid and cried!"

Rickey could say nothing, how could he? He had spent four years in the company of the death angel, but not her. What great injustice was this? That the most innocent and loving of creatures in this God forsaken land should bear witness to such a thing. The fact that it was a Federal raiding party that had done this affected him little; his hatred for them had reached its peak long ago and simply could not rise higher.

"My fault…" She said again.

"No." He replied fervently. "No it ain't, and you stop telling yourself that right now." He almost felt angry at her for saying it. "Lily, your job was to survive…and you did that." She looked up at him with teary eyes. "It's my fault Lily, and that's something I'm gonna have to answer for one day, but not yet." He looked up at the ceiling then back to her. "For four years I have fought, and the only thing that that has kept me going is you Lily…the thought of coming home one day and seeing you was all I had. If I didn't have that I would've given up a long time ago, but I didn't. I refused to die; I refused to give up, because I had you. Every time I was ready to give up out there I would think of you, and carry on. Through the coldest winters and bloodiest battles you were in my heart, urging me to go on, go on so I could earn the right to come home to you." He gently kissed her on the cheek. "You are all I have in this world…and I love you more than life itself, and no matter what happens now, we will get through it together."

Lily sniffed as she whipped her eyes. "You kept your promise to me…now I want you to make another one."

"Anything."

"Promise me you'll never leave me again."

"I swear it." He stated with all the conviction he could muster.

She leaned her head against his chest. "I missed you so much. I was starting to think you weren't going to make it home…a home that doesn't exist anymore."

"We will always have a home Lily. Where ever we are, as long as we are together will be home."

She said nothing, just closed her eyes, and only seen to the most careful observer, put on a very faint smile…

Rickey put down the last shovelful of dirt and taped the mound with his entrenching tool. It had been difficult digging a large grave in the frozen ground, the second he had dug this week. Lily was not with him now, she had offered to help burying their slain parents, but she had seen enough already, so he told her to stay in the barn and care for the horse that he had ridden up here. It was an interesting sight to say the least. He had a hard time with leaving here side, even temporarily, but it was for the best.

He had kept his own emotion at bay during the process of digging the grave. He showed Lily the small oil cloth pouch that contained the personal items of his fallen brothers, and of course told her of Jim's fate. She wept when he relayed Jim's message to her. He buried the pouch along with Mr. and Mrs. Davis just as Jim would've wanted. Now that the grave was filled he retrieved Lily so they could both say some words. She stayed close by his side and leaned against him, her head now at his waist.

"Rickey…could you go first?" She asked as she looked up at him.

"Sure Lily…" He removed his hat and cleared his throat. "Uhm, I've never been any good at this…but I just wanted to thank you both for everything you've done for me and Lily. You took me in when I had nowhere else to go, and if it weren't for you I'd have never met Lily, and for that I am eternally grateful. You gave me not only a home and a life, but love and guidance. Mrs. Davis…mother…I know that the last thing you did was make sure Lily was safe…and I just wanted you to know that as long as I live I will protect her…" Lily wept softly with her face in his side. "I hope you are back with Bill, Archie, and Jim now. I hope to see you again someday, but until then I'll do my best to live my life by your example…I love you both…"

There was a long silence before Lily spoke. "Rickey…I can't"

He knelt down next to her and put an arm around her shoulders. "You can."

"I don't know what to say…"

"Just say what's in your heart." He replied in a reassuring tone.

"I'll try…" She took in a deep breath. "Momma…papa…I can never thank you enough for everything you have done for me. You have taken care of me all of these years, made me feel safe, and happy, and welcome. You never treated me any different because of what I am…" A tear rolled down her cheek. "And you always loved me like I was your real daughter." She cried silently, Rickey embraced her.

"I love you both…I'll never forget you…" That was all she could handle. She began to weep in his arms. "I'm sorry Rickey…I…I can't do anymore."

"Shhh…That's plenty."

"I can't believe they're gone…" she sobbed.

"Me neither…" He hugged her tight and stared at the grave…

Once she had calmed down Rickey took her back to the barn. It was getting late and the temperature was lowering. The barn held an old iron wood stove in which Rickey lit a fire for both warmth and food. He found that the Federals had only taken the guns and ammunition but had left the food stores. They had been depleted by months of hardship but enough remained to sustain he and her for a good while, at least until he figured out what his next move would be. He found potatoes, carrots, beans, and rice, which he combined to make a hearty stew.

As it cooked he decided to venture out one last time before the sun set completely. This was to see if anything from the house could be salvaged. Lily stayed in the barn again, curled up in his wool blanket by the stove for warmth. As he walked through the charred remains of his childhood home he was overcome with another wave of emotion. He saw not charred wood nor ash, but the house as he remembered it, now gone, as were five of its seven inhabitants. He found little that had survived the blaze. A few of the sturdier metal cooking implements from the kitchen remained, he would take these back to the barn with him. Just as he was about to leave something caught his eye, and after clearing away a few charred timbers he found it. It was an old chest from the bedroom he and Lily shared; it was charred, but somehow intact. He had made it when he was practicing woodworking, and had varnished it far too much, that fact was probably what saved it from the fire.

He opened the latch and lifted the lid. Inside where a few odds and ends of his, a pair of boots that no longer fit, as well as some sweaters that fit the same description. As he moved these items aside he found something else, something he remembered very well…

A cold winter breeze blew down the city street. Rickey buttoned up his coat against it. The hour was late and he knew he would need to leave soon. He and his three brothers had taken the truck into Lake Wilfred today, something they rarely did. The purpose of the journey was to buy Christmas presents. While Riverview had the basic shops to support civilization, Lake Wilfred was much larger, almost a small city. Here they were a plethora of different stores, all specialized in different types of goods.

He and his brothers always saved up the money they made by doing extra chores around the farm for this, to buy gifts for one another. While they didn't always get along, the were as true brothers as could be, and delighted, perhaps even competed, in their buying of gifts for one another. Rickey had never been the best gift giver, his gifts were always more practical then sentimental. He had bought Jim a new bone handled bowie knife with matching sheath, Bill would receive a new tackle box and lure set, for he enjoyed fishing over all other past times. Archie would get a new set of hand carved chess pieces. Several of his had gone missing over the years and were replaced by crude stand ins. He had made sure to have some money left over though; for this year he had one other to buy a gift for, and this one would have to be extra special.

Lily had been with them for almost a year now, and this would be her first Christmas. He wondered if whatever land she hailed from celebrated Christmas. Regardless she loved the holiday spirit. She marveled at the grand tree he and his brothers drug in from the deep woods, and was very eager to assist in its decoration. She had grown very fond of hot cocoa, and Rickey had helped her build a gingerbread house, of which she was very proud. She didn't seem to be overly excited about presents, she was just enjoying the season, and the fact that Rickey was able to spend more time with her.

Rickey walked down the street, still unsure of what he would give her. He knew he had to hurry, when he dropped the other gifts off in the truck his other brothers were finished shopping and were ready to make the long trip home. He didn't want to make them wait much longer. He saw a toy store up the road and quickly made his way towards it.

He entered the store; it was quite large, and stocked with an impressive variety.

"Can I help ya find somethin' lad" questioned the older man behind the counter.

"Oh just lookin' I reckon."

"Well, let me know if ya need any help now."

"Yes sir." He began to browse the shelves. Dolls, models, figurines, nothing seemed to quite fit the bill. He walked to the next aisle, and then he saw it. It was a teddy bear, but not of the sort that would be mass produced, no this one possessed a quality that said it was made by hand, much like the chess set he got Archie. It was very soft, but durable, and the material that made up it coat had a great sheen. It even wore a little bow tie around its neck. _Damn bear is classier than I am. _He thought. It was perfect. He took the bear to the counter.

"This be it?" the old man questioned.

"Yea, that'll do it."

"Alrighty." He calculated the tax on a scratch pad. "That comes to ten fifty two."

Rickey pulled his money out of his pocket and counted it out. "Shit."

"What's the matter?"

"I'm a buck ten short." Rickey let out a regretful sigh.

"Sorry lad." He began to walk back to the shelf with the bear.

"Wait!" he cried. He fished around in his pockets hoping to find anything of value. The only other thing he had was his pocket knife. He pulled it out and looked at it. His father had given him this knife, and after he died this knife protected him through many a violent scrap in the gutter. It had served him well for many years.

"Here sir, this is a real good knife, I've had it for a real long time…do you think maybe it could cover the difference?" He pleaded.

"Who you wantn' this for lad?" the old shop keep replied.

"My…my little sister sir…It's her first Christmas, and I want to get her somethin' real special, somethin' she'll always remember."

"You must really care a lot about her seen' how yer willin' to spend yer last penny and give up yer knife."

"I do sir, I love her with all my heart."

"Hmm…" He handed the bear to him. "Keep yer knife lad."

"Sir I couldn't…"

"Yea, you can. 'Sides, I got no use fer that beat up ol' knife anyhow." He forced the bear into Rickey's hands. "Merry Christmas lad."

"Thank you sir…And a Merry Christmas to you too." Rickey extended his hand to the old man and he shook it. Rickey walked out of the store, touched by this rare act of kindness by his fellow man, and made his way to the truck for the long trip home…

Christmas morning saw the family gathered around the tree in the living room. Gifts were exchanged and once again Jim proved himself the master gift giver. He gave Rickey a box of .30-30 rounds for his levergun, being illegal they were very hard to come by. Bill received a new, very high quality fishing pole, shadowing Rickey's own gift to him. Archie received perhaps the greatest gift of all, Jim had set him up on a date with a very beautiful girl that Archie had a crush on for years, but was always too shy to ask her out.

Rickey sat in a chair with Lily on his lap. Mrs. Davis had knitted the filly a rather corny looking Christmas sweater as a gift, the other boys had snickered a bit when they saw it, at least until they were given a death glare from their adoptive mother. Lily adored it and immediately put it on, applauding how "Comfy" it was. He had no idea how she came to that conclusion, as it was itching him just by having her on his lap.

She sat their happily, munching on a gingerbread cookie. Mrs. Davis retrieved another wrapped package from under the tree. "This one is for you Lily." She stated.

"Weally? Another pweasant for me?"

"Yes dear, and it's from Richard." She smiled briefly at him before handing the package to Lily.

Lily took it in her hooves then looked up at him. "You got me a pweasant Wickey?"

"Sure did, go ahead and open it." He replied with a smile.

Lily tore away the wrapping paper to reveal the teddy bear. She gasped. "Wickey! I wove it!" She turned around and hugged his neck tightly. "…but, I didn't get you a pweasant Wickey…"

"Oh that's okay Lily."

"No, it's not fair…" She looked down, ashamed.

"How about a kiss?" he looked down and smiled. "That's all I want for Christmas."

"Weally?"

"Uh huh."

"Ok Wickey! Mmmmuah!" She gave him a big sloppy kiss on the cheek.

"Merry Christmas, my little Lily flower." They hugged each other tight.

"Mewwy Chwistmas Wickey!" She then hugged her new teddy bear, in one of the most adorable sights Rickey Pearson had ever seen…

Rickey was still holding the bear in the burned down house. He had been lost in his thoughts for some time, and in that time the sun had set. He placed the bear in his haversack and made his way back to the barn.

Lily was asleep now. He checked the stew, it was done. He didn't want to wake her, but she needed to eat. He, the starving rebel, had eaten more recently than she had. He gently shook her awake. "Food's ready Lily."

She seemed startled for a moment, and then she saw Rickey and relaxed. "I'm not hungry."

"Well you need to eat to keep your strength up." He spooned some stew into a bowl. "It's a 'recipe' I learned in the Army. It doesn't have a whole lot of taste but it's hearty."

"I can't Rickey…" She sighed. "I have no appetite, not after all this…"

Rickey sighed to then knelt down next to her. "Listen, I was looked around the house…and I found something…" He retrieved the bear from his haversack. "An old friend."

Lily's eyes went wide in shock. "Rickey…oh my…" She took the bear from him and stared at it. "How?"

Rickey shrugged his shoulders. "Chest survived the fire somehow."

"Oh Rickey…you don't know just how much this means to me. So many nights…when I was feeling so alone and scared, I would hold this bear tight and think of you…it was all I had." She hugged it tight as a tear rolled down her cheek. "When I ran to the barn, a wanted to grab it…but there wasn't enough time. I thought it was gone like everything else." More tears began to form as she closed her eyes. Rickey leaned down and embraced her.

"Thank you Rickey…thank you so much."

"You're welcome sweetheart." He looked down at her and she smiled. "There we go, that's what I waited four years to see."

"I think I could go for some of that stew now."

Rickey just nodded and handed the bowl to her and then poured one for himself. The two of them sat and ate in silence, but every once in a while they would look up from their bowls and smile, for it was the first time they had shared a meal in four years…


	10. Chapter Ten: What Lies Beyond

**A Feather in the Hat**

Chapter Ten: What Lies beyond

For four years Sergeant Richard Pearson had dreamed of his first night home. He had always imagined it wearing a set of fresh night clothes, warm in his bed. He imagined a night of good sleep, finally free of the horrors of war, his only concern to be what pastimes of peace he would take part in the next day. This was not to be the case. Instead Rickey spent his first night home in his old uniform, leaning up against the wall of the barn, his dirty wool blanket wrapped around Lily and himself. Her sleeping in his embrace was perhaps the only part of his fantasy that had come true, but even that wasn't without trouble. It had taken her some time to succumb to exhaustion, and even when she had, she was restless. Nightmares plagued her sleep, as she tossed and turned against his chest he would calmly sooth her, pet her mane, and whisper kind words into her ear. Eventually she would be still again, but the ordeal pained him deeply.

Lily's restlessness wasn't the only thing that kept him awake this night. He was tired, exhausted, but he could not sleep. His mind was filled with too much worry and concern, for he knew far too well that his journey did not end here. The Federals that murdered his parents and burned his home were likely not more than an advance raiding party, and not indicative of a large Federal presence in the area. However, he knew it was just a matter of time before entire regiments marched across Riverview's dirt roads. They were not safe here, they had to move, but to where?

This was the main question that had occupied Rickey's mind for the night. Where could they go? North was out of the question, all that lay to the north was an ever increasing number of Federals. South was likewise troublesome. To the south lie the country of Solena, a country whose citizens had supported Polara's rebels, hoping the ideals of their revolution would someday come to their country and be heard by their king. Many Solenans, mostly poor farmers and laborers, had crossed the border and fought alongside the rebels as partisans. But as the war went on and the likelihood of a rebel victory lessened, the old king of Solena, initially neutral to the whole thing, began to give his support to the Federalists, eventually going so far as to dispatch three brigades of his own Royal Army to aid in destroying the Revolution.

Perhaps east was a better option, but even that was doubtful. To the east lie the great countries beyond the sea. These lands were said to be centers of enlightenment and scholarship, but they were not friendly towards immigration, preferring instead to keep their homogenous populations in check, free of the taint of the "savages" as they called them that lived on Pearson's side of the sea. Even if they were welcomed, how would he get there? He would have to make it to one of the port cities, all of which were occupied by federal troops. And there take work aboard one of the ships, and he knew nothing of sailing. The only times he had been aboard anything larger than a canoe where when he and other soldiers were crammed aboard river steamers.

West was the only other option. To the west lay a vast mountain chain, the foothills of which he could see from his location if he were to climb onto the barn to get a view above the tree tops. These mountains had fascinated many in Polara, himself included. Ever since the first settlers came to this land two centuries ago, men have wondered what lie beyond those magnificent peaks. A few have tried; some came back before reaching the end, unable to find a trail through. Others disappeared without a trace. As a result legends began to spread. Some say that the literal end of the world bordered those mountains, and that all who crossed where sucked into a great abyss. Others said that biblical and mythological beasts inhabited the land beyond, and had killed whoever crossed into their domain. Some said that it was the Garden of Eden, and those who made it to that glorious place had simply never returned, not wanting to share the riches of paradise with the world. Others still, often the more rational of folk, said that the explorers had simply died, that the mountains were too perilous and they perished. The risk seemed too extreme to attempt to find peace in that direction.

Rickey had no idea what he would do now. The lack of options both annoyed him and terrified him. For Lily's welfare and very survival relied upon his making a choice. So he lay there all night long, struggling with his thoughts…

Light began to filter into the old barn, and shortly after Lily began to stir on his lap. She opened her eyes and stared at him for a moment, then reached up a hoof and gingerly touched his face. Satisfied, she closed her eyes and snuggled into his chest.

"I wanted to make sure…" She said with a faint smile.

Rickey leaned down and kissed her forehead. "Good morning Lily."

"Good morning Rickey." She sighed "I had awful nightmares last night."

"I know…" he gently ran a finger through her mane.

"How did you sleep?" she questioned.

"I didn't."

"How come?"

He shrugged his shoulders, "Just couldn't sleep," he said, not wanting to trouble her with his own thoughts.

She looked up at him quizzically, and then leaned her head against his shoulder. "What are we going to do?"

He paused for a moment. "We are going to have breakfast." He got to his feet quickly.

The two shared a light breakfast of grits for the both of them, hay fried in vegetable oil for Lily and salt pork for Rickey. Once the two had eaten, Lily tended to the captured horse, and Rickey took a detailed inventory of what supplies remained. All the while he thought of what he would do. He still was unable to come to a decisive conclusion.

"Rickey?" He looked up, she was standing in the doorway of the cellar.

"Yes?"

"Would you maybe…" She scratched at the dirt with her hoof.

"Maybe what, Lily?"

"Go for a walk? Like we used to?"

Rickey looked down at the wooden box filled with cans of various foods, then back up to Lily. The inventory could wait. "Of course sweetheart." He smiled up at her as he climbed the ladder.

The two of them walked through the old woods, on a trail they had walked a thousand times before. Their chatter was mostly idle, talking of old times, how much they had missed one another, how she had occupied herself in his absence. There seemed to be an unspoken agreement between them that they would not speak of the great predicament that they now found themselves in. No, this was their time, a time to try and heal the wounds of the past four years. It was working, for despite it all they were both smiling. Rickey felt like he was young again. He held his rifle in his left hand, his right rested atop Lily's head as they walked. She really had grown since he left.

The peaceful walk came to an end, he was unsure how long it was, but it couldn't be long enough. As he approached the barn he knew it was time to get back to the business of survival. Upon walking through the door Lily stopped. He turned to look at her.

"Rickey, what are we going to do?" Lily questioned with serious expression.

He paused for a moment before speaking. Should he really tell her that he had absolutely no idea what they were going to do, and that every moment they stayed in this place they were in ever increasing danger? "I…I don't know…" He leaned up against the wall and put his face in his hands. "I have no idea Lily…"

She sat down next to him and rested her head on his shoulder. "I know you will think of something, you always do."

"But that's just it. I don't even trust my own judgment anymore." He said with a sigh.

"I still do." She replied as she nuzzled his chest.

"Well you shouldn't!" he abruptly stood up. Lily looked up at him with shocked eyes.

"Rickey…"

"No Lily. It was my judgment that lead to all of this happening." He leaned up against the opposite wall. "It's my fault."

"No!" She quickly flapped her wings and landed next to him. She stood upon her hind legs and wrapped her front legs around his arm. "You wouldn't let me blame myself, and I'm not going to let you blame yourself."

Rickey made no movement, just stared at the wall. "Were going to get through this. You and I, together, just like you promised, right?"

He looked at her and nodded his head. "Yea."

She smiled in return. "Good, the only reason I asked is because…" she cut herself off.

He turned and looked at her. "Because why Lily?"

She turned away. "Never mind…It's nothing."

"You can tell me Lily." He knelt down and put an arm around her shoulders.

"It's just, that I've had this feeling for a long time now."

"A feeling?" he asked puzzled.

"Yea, a feeling that has been sort of 'pulling' me."

"Pulling you? Pulling you where?" Rickey looked into her eyes. They were betraying an emotion as if to say she was feeling torn.

"I don't know…that way." She pointed a hoof west, towards the mountains. "It's like…It's like its calling me…"

"Calling you where?"

"Home." She said in a very small voice. Rickey said nothing; he just gently nodded his head. "But it's nothing, I'm sure! I mean, this is my home…"

Rickey walked to the door of the barn and looked west, toward those great and mysterious mountains. Could this really be the way to their salvation? He looked back at her. Was she right? Was this feeling of hers leading her home? He could only imagine it, a land of ponies like her, all of them loving and kind and with malice towards none. A land where she would be finally accepted and welcomed and could live in peace and security. For years he had dreamed of such a place, and now perhaps this feeling, this gut instinct of Lily's was the way.

"Rickey I'm sorry…I don't mean to say that…" Rickey bent down and put a finger to her lips, quieting her.

"Lily you have nothing to be sorry for." He placed a hand on her chest, feeling the heartbeat that was always so strong, so full of life. "If your heart tells you this is where we should go, then we go."

"…But what if I am wrong?" Lily said sheepishly

"Then we will find out together." He smiled at her. "If you feel it in your heart then I trust it." He brought her in close and embraced her. "It's the only thing I believe in anymore."

"I hope you're right Rickey."

"Me too."

The rest of the day was spent organizing supplies for their journey. Rickey had no idea of the length of this odyssey. It could be days, or it could be weeks, it might even be months. He had to plan for any eventuality. Four years as an infantryman had prepared him for this. 20 mile a day marches served to teach a man the difference between a necessity and extra weight. He remembered how after the first long march his company had undertaken; the road was littered with discarded items. Some of those things were more necessary then the men realized at the time, and the sutlers, the merchants who followed the army, would pick up those items for free and sell them back to the soldiers when they were needed at outrageous prices. Some items like great coats would have the men's names written inside. And when the rightful owners would come to claim them, they would receive no mercy from the vultures. After a year or so the men had a good understanding of what they needed to carry.

There was a decent amount of hay in the barn, that would serve as both forage for the captured horse, and if need be, food for Lily. She wasn't fond of raw hay, but she could stomach it unlike Rickey. Their diets were different but thankfully there was plenty of overlap. She couldn't eat meat but could eat hay and grasses, which meant that he could supplement what rations he brought with them with food both hunted and foraged. He also spent the evening making large batches of hard tack, which he had learned to do in the army, with the bags of flour found in the cellar. Also in the cellar were packages of salt pork, cured bacon, cans of corned beef, cans of beans, corn meal, potatoes, and carrots.

He would not ride, Lily would when she tired of walking, but not him. Freed of his weight the horse would be able to carry a much greater burden of supplies. He was certainly used to long marches, and he doubted they would make much more daily progress than a column on a road. He remembered the advice he had heard from an old sergeant in his company, a veteran of the old army before he became a rebel. The old man told him that after the first hundred miles a soldier marched in his life, the rest was as if he weren't walking at all. That was not entirely true, he felt every mile, but he would admit it became easier as time went on.

Lily would carry some burden as well. She had a set of small saddle bags that Mrs. Davis had made for her long ago for use on camping trips that she and Rickey would take in the woods. She carried only personal items, some sweaters and other winter clothing, as well as the teddy bear Rickey had recovered from the chest. She refused to part with it and Rickey didn't argue. As far as supplies besides food were concerned, the majority of it was what Rickey already carried in his pack. Most things in the barn were too large and too heavy to burden the horse with.

The preparations ran late into the night. By the time everything was packed onto the saddle and two packs, and the last batch of hard tack was finished baking, Rickey decided it was finally time to get some sleep. He and Lily cuddled up together under his blanket, and despite everything that had happened, and was about to happen, Rickey managed to sleep. He felt a strange mixture of fear and excitement. Fear at the unknown, and excitement at the possibility that a promised land really lay beyond those mountains.


	11. Chapter Eleven: Over the Hills

**A Feather in the Hat**

Chapter Eleven: Over the hills and far away

Rickey leaned up against the western side of the barn and lit his last cigarette, the one he had been saving for the reunion that would never be. He chose the west wall not for because that is direction he and Lily would take in a short while, but because this is the side that he and his brothers would always take shelter behind when they smoked, as it was out of sight of the house and their mother. He smoked slowly, as he was unsure when, if ever, he would have another one.

Lily walked around the barn. "Is everything ready?"

"Yea," he replied. She leaned next to him and he pet her mane.

"Are we really doing this?"

"I guess we are Lily," he looked down at her and smiled lightly.

"It's just hard. I've lived here my whole life…and now, for the first time, I'm leaving."

"It's tough for me too. This certainly ain't how I imagined coming home, but things change I reckon." He took another long drag off the cigarette.

"Do you think we will ever come back Rickey?"

Rickey hesitated for a moment then shook his head. "Lily… I think where we're going, where ever that is, there ain't no coming back."

Lily sighed. "Are you sure, maybe some time in the future we could…"

"No Lily," He looked her in the eyes. "In a short while this place is going to be crawling with Federals…and besides, when we leave, I'm burning the barn."

"What? Why!?"

"Because I ain't leaving shelter and food for those bastards." Rickey stated firmly. "If they want to occupy Riverview they'll be billeting somewhere else."

"But Rickey…"

"Lily please," He dropped the butt on the ground and extinguished it under his boot heel. "This is very hard, but I have to do it. I need you to understand."

Lily said nothing; she just nodded and walked away. There was another reason that he needed to burn the barn, one that he didn't think he could explain to her. He needed a finality to it all. He needed to be fully committed to this venture, with no chance of coming back. It was that way alone that he would see it through to the end. He recalled the story of the first explorers to come across the sea to this land, how upon landing they burned their ships so they would have no way out but to find a way to survive. He was now an explorer in a way, and he must have that same determination.

The last of the equipment and supplies were packed. After he allowed Lily some time to say goodbye to the only home she had ever known he lead her and the horse down the hill, out of sight of the barn. He did not want her to see this. He walked back up and grabbed the jar of kerosene he had prepared with a rag stuck into its top. He retrieved his lighter and lit it under his thumb. But just as he was about to ignite the oily rag, he stopped. He extinguished the lighter and put it back into his pocket, there was still one thing he had left to do.

He walked to the still fresh grave of his adoptive parents. He knelt in the snow and ran his fingers through the loose soil.

"I don't know if you can hear me, but if you can…I hope you can forgive me for what I am about to do." He looked up in the sky and sighed. "Funny ain't it? How a fella can spend his whole life building a home in a family, and it gets destroyed in an instant. I'm damn sick of that." He stood. "I've failed the both of you, but know this, as I live and breathe, I will protect her." He felt a wave of memory flow over him as he thought of the years spent in this place. The warmth, the love, the feeling of acceptance and belonging, now physically gone but forever in his heart. He smiled. "Until we meet again." He walked back to the barn.

He retrieved the kerosene jar and this time followed through with lighting the oily rag. He held the jar in his hand for a moment to ensure the rag caught, and then with a grunt he heaved it at the barn. The jar smashed against the wall of the barn, then an instant later a great plume of flame burst skywards. That flame ignited the kerosene he had splashed over the walls and inside of a minute the whole barn was an inferno.

He stood there for a moment and watched the last remnants of his home be consumed by flame. Then, without looking back, he marched down the hill to join Lily and the horse and begin this great odyssey…

Her hooves throbbed, they throbbed like they never had before. Every step she took was an exercise in determination, the cold winter air tearing at her lungs. She looked skyward, by her reckoning there was about two hours of daylight left. She grunted to herself, how was she supposed to make it another two hours? Or rather how was she supposed to even move tomorrow? Or the next day? She began to feel like this was a very bad idea. Why hadn't they just stayed on the farm? Perhaps it would have been better if she had let the Federals find her, for it seemed that whatever horrors they had in store for her could be no worse than this. Then she instantly felt shame at even having thought such a thing. It was a betrayal to the two people who died to protect her and the one who lived for such.

Rickey. She cast her gaze upon him. He had one hand on the horses bridle and the other gripped his battle rifle. He walked as if he could continue on through the night and into the next day. How could she be so exhausted and he not even be winded in the slightest? Then she realized that this was probably just like another day in the Army for him. He had written her often telling of the vast distances he and his regiment had covered. She envied his abilities, but certainly not the experiences that had given him such a trait.

She knew him well enough to know that he was pained deeply. Not the pain that came from the loss of his family, that was obvious. It was a pain that was much deeper, a pain that came from doing and seeing things she could not even imagine. She knew that he must have practiced a form of self-censorship in the letters he sent her from the front, for his descriptions of the action were very tame compared to even what the newspapers would publish. She doubted he would ever talk about his experiences, although she was doubtful she would want to hear them anyhow. He was her big brother and best friend, and she loved him with all of her heart. Despite what she knew to be the truth, she still wanted to think of him as the sweet and caring boy who had raised her and showered her with love and affection, not a scarred soldier who killed other men.

This was not to say that he wasn't still the doting, even over bearing protector he once was. They had stopped three times that day. Only one had been for food, the other two were for rest, rest for her that is. She knew that he could have kept going without a break, and that he was very anxious to keep moving, wanting to cover as much ground as possible before nightfall. But still he stopped for her. He had asked her many times if she wanted to ride the horse for a while to give her hooves a rest, but every time she refused and insisted she was fine. For one she didn't want to add to the poor animal's burden, but moreover she felt like she had to prove to Rickey she could keep pace. When she thought about it objectively it made her laugh a little. When she was younger she used to try so hard to prove to Rickey that she was just as tough as him and the other boys. The only frame of reference she had for the correlation between age and maturity was in humans. While in "human years" she was still an adolescent, she knew that she was an adult now; her species must mature fast than humans. Yet despite this she was still that same filly with something to prove. But she wouldn't let this thought of childishness change her mind. She wanted Rickey to think he had a true travelling companion, not a burden. He had enough to worry about…

Rickey Pearson could not shake the instinct of a soldier. He kept up a continual scan of his surroundings as he moved. The only contact they had made so far was with a few squirrels and one deer a hundred yards off. His experience at the front taught him to subconsciously distinguish between real threats and false alarms. This wasn't a trait he gained the moment he fist donned his uniform however. He recalled how on his first night of piquet duty a raccoon moved in a bush near him and he in turn shot the poor bastard to pieces.

His constant vigilance revealed three men to his right, some 150 yards distant. He jerked on the horses bridle bringing the beat to an abrupt halt. Lily almost ran into him, her hooves moving automatically.

"What?" Was all she could muster between labored breaths.

"Shit." was his reply. They had caught sight of him. He could make them out only slightly, but enough to realize they were all wearing at least some part of a rebel uniform. He thought that they were deserters and would likely leave him alone, at least until he caught sight of the blue armband sewn to the sleeve of the man with the most complete uniform.

"Homegaurd. Son of a bitch." He had to act quickly. He knew Lily was in no shape to make a run for it and he even doubted his own ability to run more than a few hundred yards after an all-day march. His first and most important order of business was to get Lily out of harm's way for he knew there was likely to be a fight. Homegaurd soldiers were not known for their reasoning abilities.

"Get on the horse Lily."

"Rickey I told you…"

"Damn it Lily just get on the fucking horse!" She seemed shocked at first, then pained. He felt awful for speaking to her in such a way, but now was not the time to focus on such things.

Silently she flapped her wings briefly to mount the animal, then took the reins in her hooves. "Now listen to me, ride as fast as you can. Don't stop until the shooting stops."

"Shooting? What are you going to do?"

He ignored her question. "When it stops find a place to hide, if I don't catch up in an hour then go on without me. Whatever you do, don't turn back, do you hear me?"

"No! I'm not leaving you Rickey!" she cried.

"God damnit don't argue with me! Now go!"

"No!" just then the first shot rang out. The bullet kicked up snow mere feet from them.

"Go!" he screamed as he landed a forceful blow on the horses rump, causing the beast to rear up, then set off in a mad gallop. Lily screamed something back, but it was lost to him. His sole focus now was the three men advancing towards him. He threw himself to the ground behind a large rock and checked the chamber of his rifle.

"We gonna get you, you sum bitch!" He heard one man yell.

"What the hell do you want with me? I ain't no damn Fed!" he replied.

"Yea, but you's a deserter ain't ya?"

"The hell does it matter? God damn war is over." Rickey could just barely see around the boulder. The one who was talking was the same one wearing the armband of a Homegaurd soldier, as well as three inverted chevrons identical to Rickey's. He was a big man, and quite fat as well. With him were too much scrawnier and more ragged men, boys more than likely. While the fat sergeant had a Tredegar like him, the other two had much older weapons. One carried a lever action similar to the one he used to own only it had a longer barrel and a half-length magazine tube. The other, the smallest of the three, carried a very long, full stocked weapon. Whether it was a muzzle loader or breech loader he could not tell.

The group, including the "sergeant", who most likely had never been to the front, seemed very inexperienced and undisciplined. Rickey very much wanted to resolve this situation without more bloodshed. This was for several reasons, for one he didn't want to risk getting himself killed in another firefight as that would leave Lily alone and helpless. He also didn't want a drawn out ordeal of gunfire which may draw others to the area. The main reason however was that he had been killing men for four years and was damn sick of it. He had just set off on a journey to finally find peace and happiness and killing these three, rather they deserved it or not, didn't seem like a good way to start off.

"Tell me you damn traitor, who's that with you? Couldn't see but sure sounded like a woman. When we is done stringin' you up I reckon we gonna track her down and have some fun with her. Ain't that right boys?" The other two started letting of shrill cries, some perversion of the Rebel Yell.

Any desire that Rickey had to avoid confrontation was gone now. Even the thought of what that fat sergeant said made him boil over with rage. He carefully crept around the base of the rock and lined up a shot.

"I tell ya, it's been a while since I got my dick sucked, I think I'll start with…" His speech was cut short when a bullet from Pearson's rifle rearranged the inside of his skull.

"Fat fuck." He said to himself as he cycled the action of his weapon. The other two had begun to fire at him now. Their shots went wild and even if they were precise they couldn't hit him anyhow. Obviously he had startled them. Now it was time to end this so he could be about his way. The two of them had begun to move to the right to try and get around the side of the rock. Pearson quickly fixed the long bayonet to his rifle. He sprang up from his cover and fired two shots in rapid succession. Neither shot found a target but it caused the two men to separate and seek cover. The one with the levergun went left, and deciding that he was the larger threat, Rickey moved toward him. He fired once, hitting him in the shoulder. The ragged Homegaurdsman cried out in pain, but was quickly silenced as the next shot hit him in the chest.

As he cycled the bolt of his Tredegar he saw the third man rush him. Rickey snapped the weapon to his shoulder and pulled the trigger, but all he got for his efforts was a disheartening click. The Tredegar was empty. The other man brought his own rifle to his shoulder, but Rickey dove to the right at the last moment and the shot missed by mere inches. Deciding in an instant that it would be a waste of time to reload or even go for the revolver in its clumsy flap holster, he charged forward.

He swung his weapon but first, but the man met his blow and the two locked rifles. He could see his weapon now; it was a relic from the black powder age, a single shot "falling block" rifle of some 50 years vintage, the type first adopted after muzzle loaders became obsolete. It was a massive weapon, the same size as the muskets it replaced and much larger and heavier than Pearson's own. In the hands of a large and skilled fighter it could be a formidable weapon at such close quarters, but in the hands of this scrawny and obviously terrified boy, it was clumsy and awkward. Rickey quickly got the upper hand. He shifted down and to the right, and twisting his whole body, he delivered a butt-stroke the knocked the big rifle away from his opponent. Then, using that same momentum he twisted upwards and sliced the bayonet up the back of his right leg. The boy fell to the ground screaming in pain and holding his bleeding leg. Rickey lined up to deliver the killing blow when the boy threw up his hands and cried out.

"Please…please sir. Don't kill me. Just let me go and I swears to you I won't tell nobody nothin' about what happened here." Rickey, still panting heavily and with his adrenalin pumping, just snarled.

"Please, I just wanna go home…" he began crying. It was a pathetic sight, but Rickey began to lower his weapon.

"Th…Thank you." He sniffed. Rickey nodded slightly, but as he began to turn away he felt something wash over him. It was a sensation of absolute rage, and before he could even react to what was happening he had plunged the bayonet all the way through the boy's neck.

He quickly withdrew the blade now that he again had control of his actions. The boy did not scream, just made a gurgling sound for a few moments as he struggled with the death angel, and then went silent. Rickey fell back into the snow, his eyes wide. Why had he done that? The scrawny kid was already incapacitated and no longer a threat to him. Yet despite the fact that he had resolved to let the little bastard live he killed him anyway. He couldn't understand it.

He got up from where he was sitting. He thought it prudent to check the corpses for anything useful, while at the same time trying to interpret his own actions. He found nothing actually valuable save for a few stripper clips for his rifle. He did however find a small bottle of whiskey and a pack of cigarettes on the fat sergeant. In his current mental state he found these the most useful items of all. He sat down in the snow, and with shaking hands lit a cigarette and began to take long swigs from the bottle. Anything to calm his nerves.

He heard something to the left. He set the bottle down and retrieved his Tredegar. From over its sights he saw a horse come from the woods with Lily mounted atop the animal. She saw him and guided the horse towards him, struggling to do so with the reins wrapped around her hooves.

"Rickey! Oh thank God! I was so worried." She said with a relived smile.

"Lily? What the hell do you think you are doing?" he questioned harshly.

"What? I…I was coming to make sure you were okay…"

"I told you to stay away from here, no matter what!" He began to grow very angry. If it had been that fat sergeant or one of the other two standing in his place right now…He cut of his own train of thought before it went to a place he did not want to go.

"I'm sorry Rickey… I was worried about you… maybe you were hurt and needed help."

"I can take care of myself Lily. I made it through four years at the front without you there. I don't need your help!" He instantly felt horrible for saying that but he couldn't stop himself. Whether it was the whiskey talking or whatever it was that made him kill that third man he did not know. Lily said nothing, she just turned away from him and wiped away a tear. "Sorry," she uttered very quietly.

He knew he needed to apologize and make things right, but as he reached up to the saddle to put a hand on her shoulder, he stopped, and instead grabbed the bridle and began leading the horse back to the trail…

As the sun began to set they stopped and set up camp, neither of them said anything to each other as they set up the shelter and got a cooking fire going. Rickey continued to drink from the bottle. Lily just ate her food quietly and when she was finished, sat next to him under the makeshift lean to and scratched at the ground with her hoof.

Rickey felt lower than he had ever felt. There were times of course when he yelled at Lily, when she did something wrong or particularly dangerous but it was always very short and followed by a lecture about the right thing to do. But this was different. Granted it was dangerous of her to come back, but that still could not justify what he did.

Finally he worked up the courage to own up to his mistake and try and make amends. He gently put his hand on her shoulder. She looked up at him with sad, hurt eyes. It made his heart melt, just as it did when she was a filly.

"Lily I am so sorry."

"No…you were right, it was stupid of me…" he cut her off

"That not what I'm talking about. Saying what I said, that was the biggest lie I've ever told. Lily, I need your help now more than ever, and don't you ever believe otherwise." He sighed "This war has changed me, and if we are going to make it, then I need my little Lily flower to be there to lift me up when I get down."

She smiled then leaned against his chest. "I always will be."

Rickey wrapped his arms around her then rested his head on hers. He hoped that as he got further from Polara the safer they would be, but something told him that today was just a taste of things to come, and if he isn't able to keep a level head, then what ever was waiting for them in those mountains would destroy them.


	12. Chapter Twelve: Breaking Point

**A Feather in the Hat**

Chapter Twelve: Breaking Point

"Quit squirmin'" Ricky Pearson quietly ordered. The slimy earthworm was not cooperating with him as he attempted to impale the creature on his fish hook. Finally, after another full minute of frustrated effort, the farm boy prevailed over the lower life form. Satisfied that the worm was secure, he cast his line into the calm lake. Taking the slack out of his line and keeping a casual eye on the cork bobber he leaned back against the fallen tree and began the waiting game. After a few moments of peaceful relaxation he began to grow concerned. He looked about and realized Lily was nowhere to be found. Just as he was about to rise from his sitting position to look for her he heard a flapping overhead. He looked up, and saw Lily slowly flying towards the lake.

"Lily, what are you doing?" His inquiry went unanswered. Lily continued her slow flight until she was about thirty or forty yards off shore. There she hovered, putting only enough exertion into her wings to sustain flight. She had become quite the proficient flier. Rickey continued to watch with great curiosity. After several minutes of intense concentration she suddenly dove straight into the water. Rickey sprung up from his seat, greatly worried, but to his great relief she surfaced a moment later. She let out a grunt of frustration and became airborne once more. Rickey repeated his previous question, this time with a slight tone of concern. Again it went unanswered.

She repeated her previous performance three more times, all in the exact same fashion. Rickey said nothing, just looked on in amusement at the comedic display. Finally she changed tactics. She flew to the edge of the lake, then dove down at her maximum velocity and leveled off mere inches above the lake. There she flew on; her eyes focused on the water below, and in an instant dove below the water. Her forward moment was enough to carry her out of the water again in one graceful motion, now with a large bass clenched in her hooves. She flew back to the shore, a triumphant grin on her face.

"Look Rickey! I got one!" she proclaimed as the gasping fish struggled in her grasp.

Ricky sat with mouth agape for a few moments. "That…that's great Lily!"

"Yea and he's a big one too!" She said as she struggled to keep ahold of the fish.

"Sure is, should fry up pretty nice too." Rickey stated.

"What? No! Don't hurt my fishy!" Lily proclaimed.

"Lily…why do you think we're doing this?"

Lily looked around with a worried expression as she hovered a few feet off the ground. Then suddenly she turned toward the lake. "Be free!" She cried as she tossed the fish high in the air and into the pond.

Ricky sat dumbfounded; he looked up at Lily, then was overcome by a fit of uncontrollable laughter. As he rolled on the ground laughing hysterically Lily grew furious.

"Don't laugh at me!" she pouted.

"I'm not Lily I swear." He replied as he wiped tears from his eyes.

"Yes you are!" she cried as she landed next to him.

"I'm sorry Lily." She sat there, her front legs crossed and her face wearing such an adorable expression that Rickey couldn't contain himself and hugged her tightly to him. She resisted but his grip was too tight and she finally relented. She was soaking wet but he didn't mind. He retrieved an apple from his bag and used the pocket knife he was so ready to part with in order to buy her Christmas present to cut it into sections and offered one to her. She reluctantly accepted, and the two sat there on the bank of the lake in silence. His own fishing pole long forgotten he just sat there and took in the moment. It was planting season, and he and the other boys were busier than ever. Too often he was so tired after a day's labor to do anything but sleep, and therefore had no time for Lily. But it was moments like these, these precious few events of peace and quiet alone with his most beloved friend, his little sister, that he lived for. So often was his mind on the future that he forgot to live in the present. He wanted this moment to last forever; because it was the happiest he had ever been…

It was still dark, and a bitter cold wind blew through the makeshift camp. Rickey sat awake for a few moments, and then feeling a pressure in his lower abdomen decided it was time to get up. He struggled out of his blanket and walked a few feet to a tree and unbuttoned his fly. It was painful, he wasn't drinking enough water. Little time was spent near the fire, and he had few containers capable of melting snow. His canteen could not handle the task as the fire would melt the solder holding the two halves together. It was common in the army to toss an old leaky canteen into the fire to separate the two halves to make frying pans for their salt pork and bacon. That only left his tin cup and his mucket, and they could only melt a small amount at a time. Naturally he gave the lions share to Lily to make sure she was adequately hydrated.

He let out a painful grunt as he relived himself. Lily stirred. "Rickey? What's wrong?"

"Nothing Lily, go back to sleep."

"You sound like your hurt…"

"I'm fine, go back to bed." Lily sighed then rolled back over.

Rickey finished his task and returned to his blanket roll. He did not know the time but he figured dawn couldn't be more than an hour or two away. He knew he wouldn't get back to sleep so instead he turned his attention to building the fire. With his bayonet he sifted through the ashes of last night's blaze and thankfully found a few small coals that still glowed. He scraped off the ash then laid them in a bed of pine needles and dead leaves. He began to blow on the coals. The wet kindling began to billow smoke that choked him. After several minutes of huffing and puffing, and making himself terribly light headed, the fire finally caught. He nursed it, strategically placing wood on the fire until he was finally satisfied that the fire was self-sustaining. After which he sat back, and using a burning stick lit a cigarette. As he inhaled the harsh tobacco he sighed. He was frustrated. It had been two weeks since they left the farm, and while he had hoped that their pace would increase by the day, the opposite was true. The lack of any sort of trail and the worsening weather had slowed their progress to only a few miles a day. He understood now why none of the explorers had ever returned. The terrain around her was so hopelessly confusing that if it weren't for the mysterious instinct of Lily's then they would be completely lost. The further they went the more precise her instinct got.

Lily. This is what frustrated him most. Not Lily but himself. Ever since the incident on their first day against the three home guardsmen there had been an awkward air between them. He blamed himself fully, and although he apologized that night it had not entirely healed the wounds. It was not just that one outburst, he was naive to believe that he could come home after four years and have everything go back to exactly how it was before, even in an ideal situation. His only hope was that when they finally reached their destination they would be able to rebuild their lives and their relationship.

He sighed and put the thoughts out of his mind. He got to work getting breakfast cooking and tended to the horse. It would be light soon and they must get moving…

The poor beast was emaciated. He could see the horse's ribs very clearly as he struggled to help the animal down the steep and rocky slope.

"Come on damnit, easy now." He told the animal as he carefully guided it down.

"Do you want me to help?" Lily asked as she hovered

"No stay back."

The horse was struggling to keep his footing. Rickey was very nervous, if he slipped now it would be a disaster. Suddenly one of the rocks gave way, and the beast began to fall while letting out a fierce scream. It's weight slammed into Rickey and threw him down the slope. He rolled for several yards before being stopped by a tree. He sat there for a moment in a daze, moaning in pain.

"Rickey!" Lily cried as she rushed to him. "Rickey, are you okay? Please answer me!"

Rickey shook his head to clear it and got to his feet. He was in pain but thankfully nothing was broken. The animal on the other hand was a different story.

"Oh no…" he said as he approached the beast. It was laying on its right side, broken bone protruding from its leg.

"What are we gonna do Rickey? We have to help him…"

Rickey just shook his head. He knelt next to the horse and began to pet it's neck. "Real sorry about all this pard. I can't thank you for all the help you've been." He reached down to his belt and drew the revolver.

"No!" Lily screamed.

"I've got no choice Lily…" he said solemnly.

"We have to help him!"

"How Lily?" He let the question hang for a moment. "There is nothing we can do Lily, and if I don't shoot him then he'll freeze to death."

"Please Rickey…" Lily began to cry.

"I'm sorry…" he said to both her and the animal. "Rest easy friend." He gave the horse one last pat, then put the pistol against his head and pulled the trigger. The gunshot echoed through the trees, and the animal went still.

Lily now began to sob uncontrollably. Rickey reached out a hand to try and comfort her but she swatted it away. Rickey just shook his head, and then began to go through the rations and gear to sort out only the most essential of items. After about ten minutes he had finished, and Lily was still sobbing.

"Come on Lily, we have to keep moving." She refused to move. He knelt down next to her. "Lily…I know your mad at me and I don't blame you, but we have to keep moving."

"What if it was me…" She whispered.

"What?"

"What if it was me Rickey? What if I broke my leg…would you just shoot me?" she looked up at him with angered, pained eyes.

Rickey got up and took a step back. He couldn't speak. His breathing began to intensify. He began to feel a blind rage brew up in him.

"How dare you…" he was beginning to lose control. "How fucking dare you!" Lily's expression went from anger to fear. Rickey began to move toward her and she began to retreat.

"Rickey…please…you're scaring me…"

Rickey no longer had control of himself, he reached down and grabbed her by the throat and slammed her against a tree. As his grip tightened she began to cough and sputter, Pearson squeezing the life out of her.

"Rickey…please…"

Rickey fought himself, and finally he gained back control. He finally loosened his grip, and Lily fell to the ground.

"Oh my God…" he himself fell to the snow. He looked up at Lily who was struggling to regain her breath "Lily…I…" she whimpered and scrambled behind the tree.

Now Rickey began to sob himself. There was no hope now. No hope of repairing the friendship he cherished so much, no hope being the loving person he once was. He began to wish he had died in the war, then at least he could have died without doing what he had just done, the worst thing he could ever do. He had hurt Lily, and not only that he had made her fear him. There was no punishment to fit this crime.

"I'm so sorry…Lily…I'm so…" he could say no more, he just sobbed.

"It's…It's ok…" Lily said as she very cautiously approached him.

"No." he said between sobs. "No its not…it never will be…" He looked up at her. "You have to go…Take everything you can carry and leave me here. You'll make better time flying."

"What? No!" With slightly less hesitation she approached him again. "I would never do that."

"You have to Lily. Please understand me; it's not safe with me. Let me do this one last thing to protect you. I don't want to hurt you anymore."

"You won't Rickey…I know you won't…It's gonna be ok, because your still my Rickey." She put on a very faint smile, but Rickey just shook his head.

"Rickey is dead Lily. Don't you understand that? That boy is dead; they killed him in the war. I don't know who I am but it ain't him…"

"No! Don't you say that Rickey!" Another tear rolled down her cheek.

"God damnit Rickey is dead!"

Lily fell silent for a moment. She starred at him with red teary eyes, then did something she had never done before. With a shout of pure anger she lashed out with her right front leg and delivered a powerful right hook into his jaw. The blow sent him sprawling into the snow. In an instant she was on top of him, pounding her hooves into his chest. Rickey made no effort to resist.

"You're a liar, you're a damn liar!" she cried as the blows continued to land. Rickey still did nothing. The blows hurt; his little pony had grown strong in his absence. He expected her to keep beating him until he died, and he had no objections. Of all those he had wronged, none compared to her. But just as he expected his ribs to finally give way the pounding stopped. Lily fell on his aching chest and began to sob louder than ever before. She wrapped her hooves tightly around his neck. "You are Rickey…you'll always be my Rickey…"

Stunned, speechless, and in great pain, Rickey Pearson could do nothing but lie in the freezing snow. He could feel a great battle raging inside him, fiercer than any he had ever experienced in the trenches. Finally as the enemy retreated and what little good remained in him charged forward to break the line, he managed to choke out a few uneasy words: "And you will always be my Lily flower."

Lily stopped crying and brought her face mere inches from his, and with a sterner expression than ever he had seen said: "And don't you EVER forget it."

Rickey could only nod…

They did not travel much farther that day. Both man and pony were far too exhausted, both physically and emotionally. They made camp early and ate a light supper, they both understood that their meager rations must now me stretched even farther. Neither said anything as they sat beneath the canvas lean too. For Rickey there was nothing to be said. Although in great pain he somehow felt surprisingly well. It was almost as if Lily had literally beaten his demons out of him.

The sun was setting, and the two had a perfect view of it through a small break in the trees. Lily looked up at him and put on a very faint smile. Rickey took the hint and hugged the pony tightly against his sore chest. He felt strange; it was as if years of war and suffering had washed away, and in this one moment he felt like he did all those many years ago sitting on the shore of that calm, peaceful lake…

* * *

><p>Sorry again about the delay. The past few months have been spent getting ready for the 150th Gettysburg. now that that's over i have time again to focus on this story.<p> 


	13. Chapter Thirteen: Happy Birthday

**A Feather in the Hat**

Chapter 13: Happy Birthday

Rickey had once thought of joining the Air Corps. The science of aeronautics was interesting to him, but more over it was a desire to be able to get above the slaughter. To be able to see the world for what it truly was, and not the bombed out and ruined killing fields of no-man's land, seemed to the mind of a war weary soldier a grand thing. What he saw now must be at least a close approximation. After five days of exhausting travel, the duo had finally summited the mountain last night. Now in the early dawn Rickey could take his first glimpse from this grand peak.

He could see for miles and miles from here. Below this mountain the land stretched out into a wide valley. Beyond that was a forest and even further still he could see the peaks of a range of smaller heights. Perhaps it was exhaustion or just wishful thinking, but he could swear that he saw what seemed to be thin trails of smoke rising from chimneys. Perhaps this was it, the place that Lily's instinct had been guiding them to. There was only one way to find out.

He went back to camp and found Lily with a blanket around her shoulders and staring at the fire. He sat down next to her and moved a few branches around to stoke up the blaze. "Good Morning."

"Good Morning," She replied with a faint smile, then she brought a hoof to her mouth to cover a cough.

"Are you ok Lily?" He asked with concern.

"I'm fine." She said with another cough.

Rickey put a hand on her forehead. "You feel warm."

"I'm fine Rickey, honest." She said with another faint smile.

"If you say so sweetheart." He looked around for a moment. "Eat up, we'll get moving soon."

Lily sighed. "Here we go again."

Rickey smiled and ruffled her mane. "Don't be so glum, after all, it's all downhill from here."

Lily chuckled. The two ate a quick breakfast and began the long walk down the mountain…

Gravity dictated that they made better progress that day than in days past. At points Rickey could hardly keep from running down the long slope. It was both the terrain and building anticipation that made him do so. Ever since He and Lily had had their fight he felt renewed. He began to feel as if the two of them were finally beginning to make up for lost time.

But as with seemingly all things in his life one trouble was replaced by another. Lily's health worried him. Her cough grew worse throughout the course of the day and she seemed more exhausted than usual. All of his worries came to a head a few hours before sunset when she was overcome with a coughing fit that sent her to the ground.

"Lily!" he ran to her.

"I'm fine." She said as she struggled to her hooves.

"The hell you are." He quickly removed his blanket roll from his pack and wrapped it around her. "That's enough for today. You rest here and I will set up camp."

"No Rickey I can keep going…"

He didn't respond. He worked quickly to get camp set up and to get a fire going. He wrapped her up in every blanket and ground cloth they carried. He even attempted to sacrifice his great coat to her but she outright refused and he didn't attempt to argue. He quickly cut up some potatoes and carrots and put them in his mucket with some snow to make a soup. He placed it directly into the fire to get it to cook quickly. Once satisfied that it was done he fished it out of the fire with his bayonet and gave it to Lily.

"I'm not hungry." She said weakly.

"You have to eat it Lily, you need to keep up your strength."

She sighed and took a few bites from the soup then set the mucket down in the snow. "I don't know how you did it Rickey."

"Did what?"

"This, every day for four years. All this marching."

Rickey was quiet for a moment. "You just get used to it I guess…Besides it seems like we spent more time in those damn trenches then on the march anyway."

"I could never imagine what you and the other boys went through. You know, no matter how bad things got at home, papa would always remind me and momma that 'The boys have it worse'." She wiped away a tear. "I wish I could have said goodbye to them."

Rickey only nodded. "You know…I guess I haven't told you about the last time the four of us were together, have I?"

"No…I guess not." She replied quietly.

He put an arm around her and sighed. He had trouble talking about the war, but if the healing were to begin, he had to start somewhere…

"Sarge?" Private Simmerson questioned.

"What is it private?" The freshly promoted Sergeant Richard Pearson questioned, His brand new chevrons the only clean part of his uniform.

"Is it really as bad as the other fellas are sayin'?"

Pearson looked at the young private; he was nothing more than a boy, a replacement fresh from the depot. This was going to be the boy's first time 'Going Over the Top', and he was rightfully nervous. Naturally the veterans in Pearson's squad were making a great deal of sport of the lad. It's always how it went, the vets terrified the fresh fish and they, if they survived their first 'Big One' kept the tradition alive with the next batch of recruits.

While Pearson would normally take part in this type of thing, now that he was an NCO he felt it his duty to help his younger soldiers, but he couldn't outright lie to them either. He placed a hand on his shoulder and said "It'll be over before you know it."

"Steel yourself lads!" Captain McGuire called as he moved down the line of men waiting in their trench. "We will be moving out shortly, and were gonna take that ridge. We're gonna break that line, and when we do we will be one step closer." He paused for a moment. "Our freedom is just over that ridge lads, now take it! It's yours!" A great rebel yell went up from the company. "Fix…"

The order echoed through the echelons of command, from Captain McGuire through the platoon leaders to Pearson and his fellow buck sergeants.

"Bayonets!" On that word every man went through the well drilled action. Pearson held his rifle at his right side, he spun it on its butt in front of him with his left hand and with his right reached across his body and drew the long bayonet from its scabbard and fixed the blade to the muzzle.

There was a moment of calm as the action was performed by all the men in the two brigade assault force. One could feel the tension in the air. The pre assault bombardment had ceased a few minutes ago. "Steady now boys." He quietly said to his squad. Other NCOs were doing the same all along the line. He looked over at Private Simmerson, the poor boy was practically shivering. Pearson was nervous too, perhaps even more than the boy. Now not only did he have his own hide to look out for, but a whole squad as well.

Then it began, the shrill high pitched whistles the officers carried began sounding off. "Come on boys!" Captain McGuire cried as he went over the top. Pearson ran his hand over the blue feather in his hat, always his pre battle tradition. Now he went over and stopped. He turned to rally his squad and help them get out of the trenches before he moved forward. All the guns in the federal line opened up at once, and many butternut clad men fell dead before they even made it out of their muddy holes.

"Come on! Come on!" he cried. Finally the last man in his squad made it out. They began to surge forward. Two brigades of rebels now charged the Federal line. Machine guns began spraying death from their muzzles, shells began exploding, and men began falling like flies. Still they charged forward, the very air alive with their collective rebel yells.

Two men in his squad knelt to fire. "Get up God damnit!" There was no use to stop now. They continued forward. Now they neared the front lines. Some of the Federal skirmishers broke and ran before the rebels were upon them, realizing the futility of their post. Others stayed and fired as fast as they could cycle their rifles. Pearson halted at the lip of the trench and fired, killing one Federal. Now he jumped down, and was in the first line.

One Federalist at very close range aimed at his head. Pearson parried his rifle, causing the man to miss him. Now he lunged forward, driving the freshly sharpened blade through the green tunic. As he withdrew the bayonet he looked about him. The only Federal soldiers now were corpses half buried in the mud. They had taken the first line…

The momentum of the attack faltered shortly thereafter. After a short moment to regroup they went forward again. The trench they had taken was really only a skirmish line. The real main line was at the top of the ridge. They hit it in force, took heavy losses, and were forced back. Now night had fallen, and the men of the two brigades now lay on the long slope below the crest, some dead, some wounded, and some just trying to keep their heads down. Desperate pleas for reinforcements had been taken to the rear. The powers that be decided against it, assuring new orders would come in the morning and that the battle could still be won.

Pearson lay behind a rock. His rifle was still to his shoulder, waiting for the counter attack almost every man was sure was coming. He had checked his squad, one man was seriously wounded and two others were missing. Pearson himself was unhurt, and now in the lonely darkness he had only his thoughts. He had no idea why these wasteful frontal assaults were continuously made. After all he was a part of that horrific assault against the lines protecting Polara City. He knew there had to be a better way, but after all he was just a ranker, just one of thousands of men whose lives hung on the will of men with much nicer uniforms than his.

He heard a sound from behind him. He instinctively swung his weapon around to meet it.

"Hi" It was 1st Sergeant Mayfield, he crawled up to his side.

"Damn it Jim what are you doing?" He said at a loud whisper.

"Celebrating," he replied in the same tone.

Pearson looked at him with disgust. "What the hell you got to celebrate?"

Mayfield shushed him. Two more figures crawled up, Corporal Willard and Sergeant Sumner.

"God damnit what is wrong with you boys? You're gonna get put on report for this, Federals don't shoot you the Provost sure as hell will."

"And who do you think signs them punishment reports?" Mayfield slapped himself on the arm.

Pearson just sighed. "Why are you here, don't you have men to look after?"

"You been a soldier to long Rickey." Archie replied while looking through his pack.

"What are you getting' at?"

"It's your birthday dumbass." Bill replied as he lit a cigarette. His lighter drew a barrage of rifle fire from the federal line. The four brothers put their heads down to ride it out. Returning fire would be pointless and draw out the ordeal. Eventually the Federals lost interest.

"…Is it really?" Pearson pondered.

"Yea it is, now give me your cup." Jim ordered. Rickey stopped questioning this situation and complied. Jim pulled a bottle from his haversack and poured its contents evenly amongst the four cups. Bill lit three more cigarettes off of his own to keep from drawing more attention and passed them out. Archie finally found what he was looking for; it was a tin container that he attacked with his can opener. Once opened he handed it to Pearson. It was a pound cake.

"Archie, how the hell…"

"Don't worry 'bout it. Happy birthday brother." He slapped him on the shoulder as did the other two. They divided the cake between them and ate, all the while making certain to keep their heads down.

This was the first time the four brothers had been together at the same time in months. It was as if while they laid there amongst the corpses of their comrades, eating Army issue pound cake, smoking harsh hand rolled cigarettes, and drinking cups full of "Oh Be Joyful" that they were back home. One moment of peaceful happiness and brotherly love, Rickey Pearson couldn't ask for much more for his birthday…

"You guys really did that? Had a birthday party in the middle of a battlefield?" Lily questioned

"I wouldn't call it much of a party, but yea."

Lily was quiet for a moment as she wiped away a tear. "You said that was the last time the four of you were together?"

"Yea…well not quite I guess. Bill was hit a few weeks later and we all got excused duty for two days to go up and see him in the hospital. But… by the time we got there he was so far gone that I doubt he even knew we were there, so I guess I like to think of that night on the ridge as our last one together."

Lily smiled, "Me too." She leaned up against his chest and shortly thereafter was asleep.

Rickey knew he wouldn't be sleeping that night; Lily's health worried him too much. Her forehead seemed to be getting warmer and her breathing seemed labored. He looked down at the mucket that still had the soup in it that she had barely eaten. As much as he hated wasting food, he though better than to eat after her. After all if he fell ill as well they would be in real trouble. He cast the soup out of the tin and into the bushes and began packing snow into it. He placed it into the fire and once it began to melt and boil he would add more. This was both for sanitation and to boil coffee. He would need it to stay up this long night. Once enough water was boiling he threw in a handful of grounds from his haversack. As it brewed he looked down at Lily, and hugged her tighter than before. There was one thing Rickey wanted for that birthday as well as the other three he passed in the Army; it was the same as he wanted for all the Christmases he missed, to just be able to hold her for one night. Now he was able to do so once more, and it was a gift he would treasure until the end of his days…

* * *

><p>For whom it may concern, and that's likely no one since i haven't updated it in over a year, I deleted my other story To End All War. Its funny, i started writing this story as just a short little distraction from that one, but as time went on i found my self growing far more attached to this one. I think i finally have a solidified idea of where i am going with this, and i will be rolling in some of the ideas i had for To End All War. I hope the end result turns out well and you all like it. I'd also like to that the reviewers for their kind words, it always nice to know people are entertained by your writing, after all that's the whole point.<p> 


	14. Chapter Fourteen: Old Debts

**A Feather in the Hat**

Chapter Fourteen: Old Debts

The weather was getting angry again. The wind had kicked up and the snow was falling again, and Lily looked worse than ever.

"Lily…" he called back to her. She didn't reply, she didn't even look up. She trudged along with her head down, panting heavily and with her eyes half closed.

"Lily!" She looked up. "I think we should stop."

"What…why?"

"Because you look like hell."

"Gee thanks." Rickey just rolled his eyes and bent down to her. She tried to shy away but he put his hand on her forehead.

"Lily, for God's sake you're burning up." Lily just shook her head.

"I'm fine Rickey." She began to walk off. Rickey stopped her and got down to eye level.

"Lily, enough is enough. You keep this up and you're gonna keel over."

She struggled out of her grasp. "You know what Rickey, if I'm gonna die then I'm gonna at least see my homeland first." With that she took flight and began flying as fast as her wings would carry her.

"Lily! Lily! Stop!" He cried. He began running after her. He sprinted as fast as he could under his burden. She began to slow, then her flight path grew erratic, then she fell from the sky. Now he ran as if he had no pack on his back. He skidded to a halt next to her. She was moaning so he check her for injuries. No bones appeared to be broken. She mumbled something then slumped over.

Rickey was scared, more scared then perhaps he had ever been in the war, but he did not hesitate. He wasted no time wrapping her in the wool blanket and lifting her to his shoulders. Her weight, while not more than fifty pounds felt like a ton when added to his already overburdened kit. He didn't let this bother him, he had to find the strength inside himself to carry on.

They couldn't stay here; no shelter or fire he could build would protect Lily from this weather. They were now in the foothills of the heights he had spotted from the summit of the mountain. His only hope was to find shelter in the rocks.

It was as hard a battle as Rickey Pearson had ever fought, only this time there was not a Federalist in sight. It was a battle against the snow and ice, against the wind and the rocks, but more than anything it was a battle against himself. He wanted nothing more than to fall to the ground and die. He didn't know how he could continue, and was sure the next step he took would be his last. But to his surprise he survived the motion and the one that followed. He was driven by something deep within his heart and it was pushing him far past his limit.

He was singing to himself in a low, mumbling, and breathless tone. It was the songs he knew by heart, the songs sung on the march and around the fire. Songs of home, of war, of honor and glory, of death and despair. As he sang he could almost hear a regiment of marching boots around him, off cadence at the route step. He could hear the jingling of tin cups dangling off of haversacks. He could even smell the ever present odor of an army of unwashed rebels. It was as if the spirits of the men of the Fourteenth were driving him on.

Suddenly the sounds ceased. He stopped to look around; he saw nothing but snow and trees. Where had they gone? Something drew his vision upwards, and then he saw it. It must have been what his comrades had been guiding him towards. About one hundred yards up a steep, rocky slope was the mouth of a cave.

"Thank you boys…" He started up the slope. This would be the hardest of all but he drove himself harder than before.

"Come on damn it! Come on!" He yelled in his sergeant's voice. He slipped a dozen times on the icy rocks but he maintained his balance. Finally, with one last push he made it to the mouth of the cave. He stumbled inside a few paces, and then collapsed. Lily tumbled from his shoulders and let out a moan.

_Lily…_He crawled over to where she had landed. Her breath was labored sounded like gravel caught in a well pump.

_Get up you bastard._ He forced himself to his feet. He had to build a fire. He looked back out of the cave, into the snow. "I can't go back out there," he said to the empty cave.

_Move it you son of a bitch! _He dropped his pack and his rifle, and armed only with a hatchet ventured once more out of the cave…

He collected enough firewood to last the night. Using the section of kerosene soaked linen he had held in reserve for only the most dire of emergencies he got a fire going. As much as he wanted to build a raging inferno for warmth he kept the fire small so as to not overwhelm the cave's ventilation.

He realized now that he had been hallucinating. He was so close to the edge that his mind was beginning to falter. Once he got some food in him and a few moments to rest he began to regain his senses. While he might have been on the mend he could not say the same for her. He held back tears as he stroked her mane. He had no idea what to do, he could only hope for some divine miracle. He had only felt this helpless once before, and the situation was almost identical…

"Are you out of your damn mind?"

"James! Watch your language!"

"Sorry ma, but there is no way we can do this!"

"Jim, what other choice do we have? She is dying in there!"

As his family argued around, Rickey just sat on the sofa, his face white with fear. A few days ago Lily had taken ill, but what had started as a little cough and a little dizziness had grown worse. When he had gone to check on her after supper that evening he found his worse fears confirmed. Her fever had spiked and she was barely conscious.

"Enough!" Mr. Davis shouted. "I've heard enough, I'm going to fetch the doctor." He went to the door and grabbed his coat.

"Pa wait!" Jim called. "If the doc finds out then soon the whole town will know…then…"

"Damn it Jim I said enough." Rickey's eldest brother fell silent. "Dr. McGuire is a good man, he won't say anything. Besides I won't let that child…" He paused for a moment then his eyes met Rickey's "…my daughter…die because we're too cowardly to do anything about it." With that he turned and walked out the door.

He returned an hour later with Dr. McGuire. The family met them at the door, except Rickey. He had returned to his room and was cradling the sick pony and gently rocking back and forth on his bed. He had tears in his eyes and a lump in his throat. He had never been so scared.

"It's gonna be ok Lily, everything is gonna be ok." He repeated over and over.

A gentle knock came from the door. It opened a moment later to reveal the good doctor. "Hello Rickey." He said in his trademark calm yet commanding voice.

"Hi doc…" He said weakly. Dr. McGuire approached then crouched next to the bed.

"May I see her?"

Rickey nodded. He gently shook her awake. "Lily…Lily wake up…there is someone here I want you to meet.

Lily let out a groan then opened her eyes slowly, once they focused on the third fixture in the room they went wide in terror. "Rickey! Rickey!"

"It's ok Lily, calm down."

"But…you said…strangers…"

"It's ok Lily, he is here to help you."

"You promise?" She looked up at him with pleading eyes.

"Yes Lily, I promise."

"My name is Doctor McGuire Lily; I'm going to help you get well."

Lily looked up at him again and Rickey nodded. "Ok." She finally said.

"Why don't you set her down on the bed Rickey so I can examine her." Rickey complied and gently set the filly down and backed away, all the time assuring her that he wouldn't leave her.

The physician got about his business. He examined her in every way he knew how. He looked at her eyes, ears, mouth and throat. He listened to her heart beat and her lungs, took her temperature and her pulse. When he had concluded his examination he spook: "Ok Lily, now I want to talk to your family real quick, I'll be back in a minute." He gestured for Rickey to follow him, as he got up Lily cried up.

"Wait Rickey…don't go…I'm scared."

Rickey bent down to her and spoke softly. "I'll be right back sweetheart…I swear." He and the doctor then left the room. The family was waiting on the other side of the door. Dr. McGuire held the door open for Rickey, then walked through himself and closed it gently behind him.

There was a moment of nervous silence before Mrs. Davis spoke up: "Well Doctor?"

McGuire sighed. "I will tell you all now, I do not know." There was an outcry from the group before he held up his hand to quiet them. "Calm down, please. Now I am a human physician, all I know of her kind comes only from rumors. Now I do not know what overlap there is between our anatomy and hers, if any. Perhaps if you had told me about her sooner I would have been able to examine her and have some time to begin to understand her physiology for a time such as this." That statement brought embarrassed looks from all of the Davis family. "Although I understand your line of thought in this matter. How long has she been with you all?"

"Just a hair shy of two years." Rickey replied.

"And has anything like this happened before?" The doctor questioned.

"No…Lily has always been in perfect health…Always so happy…so loving…" Rickey felt a new wave of tears coming on. Mrs Davis wrapped him in a comforting embrace as the tears flowed.

"Well…What I am about to tell you is not to be taken as a diagnosis, only an educated guess based on what little evidence I have…but due to the swelling in her ears and so forth I believe it to be some sort of infection. Now I can give her a shot of penicillin, and that may do the trick."

Rickey instantly broke free of his adoptive mother;s grasp and grabbed the doctor by the shoulders. "Really? You can help her? Then what are we waiting…"

"Rickey please, let me finish." Rickey backed off. "Now as I said before I know nothing of her kind, and for all I know this could only make things worse."

"Doc please, you gotta try." To everyone's surprise it was Jim that spoke up. "If there is any chance…"

"We have full confidence in you Dr. McGuire." Mr. Davis resolutely said.

He sighed. "Very well, Rickey?" he gestured for the young man to accompany him back into the bedroom.

As the doctor prepared his injection Rickey sat and comforted Lily. "Now this is gonna hurt a little, but it will make you better."

"How much is it gonna hurt Rickey?" She questioned still terrified by the whole situation.

"Just a little, and I will be here the whole time, now I need you to be my brave little pony ok?"

"…Ok Rickey." He nodded to Dr. McGuire. He rubbed her flank with an alcohol swab then jabbed her with the needle. She yelped and tried to squirm away but Rickey held her still.

"There, all done. You're a very brave little girl." He patted her on the head then gestured towards the door. Rickey nodded.

"I'm going to go see the doctor out. I'll be back in just a second." He leaned down and kissed her on the forehead. "I love you."

"I love you too." She replied in a small voice.

The whole family saw the doctor to the door. "Again, I can't promise anything. Call me in the morning to update me on her condition. I will come back the first chance I get."

"Thank you so much Steven, what do I owe you?" Mr. Davis questioned.

"Forget it. Buy me a drink on friday and we're square." He waved goodbye to the family and drove off.

The rest of the family went to bed. Rickey couldn't sleep a wink. He stayed up all night keeping watch over Lily. At about 2 A.M, in complete desperation he fell to his knees and began praying. He hadn't prayed since before his parents died. At times he questioned if there really were an omnipotent being in charge of this chaotic mess. But despite that he begged God for help. He begged Him to help His most innocent and loving of creations. Something worked, by morning her fever had broken and by the time Dr. McGuire returned two days later she was in perfect health.

Rickey would never forget the complete terror he felt that night. He never felt fear like that for himself, nor would he ever pray for himself…

As Rickey sat alone in the dark cave he had time to think. It was odd how events in one's life tied together. In a way, that night led directly to this one. Rickey felt for years to come that he owed an unpayable to debt to Dr. McGuire. And although the physician would always laugh it off when it would come up in conversation, Rickey held true to his conviction. It was because of that when, four years ago, the decision was made to join the revolution.

When the war began Rickey was solidly on the fence. While his brothers couldn't be more gung-ho about going off to fight, he was hesitant to leave Lily. But when it was announced in the newspaper that Dr. Steven McGuire had agreed to take the Captaincy of the Riverview Guards, an independent militia company made up of the townspeople that would soon be mustered in as Company E of the 14th Light Infantry Regiment, Rickey knew that it was his duty to go along.

Lily made it through the night, but unlike before where she had improved by the morning, now if anything she had gotten worse. But she was alive, and now Rickey had another day to figure out his next move. The storm had ceased during the night, thankfully, and as the first rays of sunlight filtered through the cave he got ready to take a look outside. But just as he got up he heard footsteps behind him. It took a moment for it to register in his sleep deprived brain but when it did the soldier's instinct took over. He wheeled about and brought his rifle to the ready. What he saw were seven of the strangest and most foul looking creatures he had ever seen.

"Looks like we's havin' fresh pony for breakfast boys."…


	15. Chapter Fifteen: Brave New World

**A Feather in the Hat**

Chapter 15: Brave New World

The Tredegar Battle Rifle had an interesting place in history. Its original design was now close to thirty years old. It all started at the old Tredegar Steel Works in Pemberton, where a young machinist with an interest in firearms design began to tinker in his spare time. Smokeless powder had only recently been invented, and the armies of the world had yet to find a way to maximize this new technology. What this young machinist who had no formal training would come up with would be revolutionary. His rifle utilized a bolt action with an oversized extractor that gripped the cartridge from the moment it left the magazine until it was ejected at the end of the shooting cycle. This feature made it almost jam proof in the rough combat environment in an era when other repeaters were plagued by feeding problems. At the same time the Army was accepting bids for a new rifle to replace their very outdated black powder "Falling Block" single shots. The new rifle won the competition, and what was then the Republic of Polara placed an order for fifty thousand units.

The Tredegar Steel Works changed almost overnight into the Tredegar Arms Company and focused solely on production of the new weapon. It was produced in two models, the Mk1A with a thirty inch barrel for the infantry and a twenty two inch Mk1B for the cavalry and artillery. Within six months twenty thousand rifles had been delivered, and they were just in time, for war was on the horizon.

While most of the lands of the New World had by this time formed their own independent countries, there were still some lands claimed by colonial powers across the sea. These nations in the Old World had sent troops overseas to protect their interests, and naturally this heightened tensions along the border. All came to a head in what was a bloodless skirmish with a small patrol of Polaran troops, the old powers claimed this tiny band was an invasion force and declared war.

The call to arms went out, and every Polaran capable of bearing arms was called upon to defend their homeland. Men came from all over, and at the recruiting depot they were issued a uniform, a pair of boots, and a Tredegar.

Initially the war was disastrous for the Polaran Army. The regular army was small, less than twenty thousand, and the volunteer army was poorly trained and led mostly by office seekers and men of great wealth but no experience. The two forces had poor cooperation and coordination, with the Regular Army officers wanting nothing to do with the amateur Volunteers and the Volunteer Officers caring about little but themselves. All of this would change when a relatively unknown Major General would assume command: William McDaniel.

With little time to spare McDaniel rebuilt his battered army from the bottom up. Pledging to his soldiers that he was their man and would never lead them astray he replaced the self-serving Volunteer Officers with Regulars. He combined the myriad of independent companies and battalions into regiments and brigades. Most importantly of all he lead from the front. He personally led attacks mounted on his horse with sabre in hand, calling "Follow me lads!" For all of this he gained the undying love of his men. "I'd go anywhere in the world, as long as Old McDaniel was up front."

The fortunes of war changed, the Polarans began to win victories. All came to a climax when the Colonials, in a desperate attempt to bring the war to a final conclusion, sent two whole divisions charging up a ridge held by three small brigades. But the entrenchments were very good, and the men were ready. The Colonials were equipped with rifles loading from tubular magazines and were slow to load. The Polarans had the Tredegar, and with it they laid down such a murderous fire that in twenty minutes the cream of the Colonial Army was destroyed.

Meanwhile at the Tredegar Arms Company the designers were pouring over reports sent back from the front. The Mk1A, the infantry model, was designed with an archaic requirement: In a battle line of two ranks, the men in the rear rank had to be able to fire over the shoulders of their comrades in front. This created a very long and heavy weapon. The powers that be at the time did not realize that this type of warfare had died with the black powder era, and the result was a heavy and cumbersome weapon. Many of the soldiers at the front had discarded their Mk1A's in favor of the lighter and handier Mk1B. Tredegar went back to the drawing board. They kept the full length stock of the Mk1A but with the barrel length of the Mk1B. They changed the outdated triangular socket bayonet to a more modern blade type, and most importantly designed a new round for the rifle. The old Tredegar fired a low pressure round nosed bullet from a rimmed cartridge. By adding a second lug to the bolt they were able to design a shorter, rimless cartridge firing a high velocity spitzer bullet. This increased the rifle's range and accuracy. They sat down to build the "Rifleman's Rifle" and they did. It was called the Tredegar AAR (All Arms Rifle) due to it being designed to equip all three branches of the army. It was this rifle that would equip both sides of the Revolution. Their first customer was the Polaran Federation.

After the surrender of the Colonial Army, William McDaniel, now with the rank of General of the Army and five stars on his shoulders, was a national hero. With victory won he went to Polara City to deliver a speech. In it he placed the blame for the heavy loss of life squarely on the Republican Assembly, the main legislative body of Polara, saying it was their mismanagement that had almost lead to disaster. He called for sweeping reforms, for a large standing army, and for a much more centralized government. His speech was met with cheers and cries for change. In the national elections that year McDaniel and his supporters won the majority, and he quickly went to work. Power became centralized, and he set himself up as the Chairman of what was now the Federal Assembly. That was when the beloved soldier became the tyrant that so many young men would give up their lives trying to overthrow.

The Tredegar was both a witness to history and a large component in the machine that drove it. It had served both a republic and a federation, oppressors and freedom fighters. As with all weapons it was up to the user to decide how it will be used, for good or evil, as a tool of tyranny, or as a defender of the innocent.

Rickey Pearson's Tredegar AAR had killed more men than he cared to count. He had hoped so dearly that he had taken his last life with the rifle when this journey was begun, that this would be not only a journey to a new land, but to a new life, a life without killing. But trouble followed Rickey Pearson where ever he went, and once more he found himself in a kill or be killed situation. But it was not his own life that he was ready to kill to protect, no, his concern for himself had died long ago. It was Lily, always Lily, only Lily. The pony that lay dying at his feet was all he lived for, and any who wished to do her harm would have to get past Sergeant Richard Pearson and his Tredegar rifle.

"You best move out the way now. It ain't wise to get between a hungry dog and his meal." The one in the center spoke. He was the biggest of these demonic looking creatures, and apparently the leader.

Pearson made no reply. He held his rifle at his hip pointing at the nearest creature. Without moving his point of aim he drew his bayonet with his left hand and fixed it to the muzzle. He was outnumbered seven to one, and while none of them appeared to have any firearms, they were at very close range. These creatures were large and seemed to be very muscular under their thick fur coats. He glanced down briefly at Lily. She was barely alive. He wouldn't be able to fight them all off, but that didn't really matter. There was nothing he could do for Lily, except to die for her, and that is exactly what he intended to do…

Twilight Sparkle had grown up in the richest and most beautiful city in all of Equestria, and perhaps it was that upbringing that made her despise elitism so much. She was after all the personal student of the country's ruler; by all rights she should be able to act as posh and smug as she wanted. But she felt humility was the most important trait a pony of high responsibility could have.

However, she knew that there was a certain expectation that came with being who she was. She and her friends had after all defeated both Nightmare Moon and Discord. Finding the balance between humility and boldness, between being a leader and a servant was something she almost constantly struggled with.

"Boy, ah sure am glad the storm quit… ah was beginin' to think mah whole body was gonna ice over!" The orange earth pony called from her left.

"Oh please, that snow storm was nothing. I flew through higher winds in flight camp." The blue pegasus with the rainbow mane replied.

The two began to bicker back and forth. It made Twilight smile in a strange sort of way; she loved her friends despite their faults.

"You know girls; you don't have to come along, after all…" Twilight was interrupted by Rainbow Dash

"'It could be dangerous and I don't want you two to get hurt'. Yea, we got it the first time you said it, let alone the last two hundred." The blue pegasus rolled her eyes as she hovered.

"Rainbow's right Twi, we can't let you go alone, after all remember what them dogs did to Rarity?"

"That's not the same Applejack, those were Diamond Dogs, they're a renegade group that have no connection to the Great Tribe. Not all Canin are like them." While she tried to sound disapproving of Applejack's prejudice, it was a bit hypocritical. The same thoughts went through her mind when she first heard that a group of Canin was spotted in the mountains.

"All Savage Dogs are alike Twilight." Rainbow Dash retorted. "They're all scheming mutts that will rob you…or eat you…if you turn your back on them."

"'Canin' Rainbow Dash, not 'Savage Dog'. Have you ever met one besides the diamond dogs?" Twilight looked up at Rainbow Dash who did not immediately respond.

"Well…no, but I've heard the stories!"

"Exactly, stories, told to fillies to make them stay in their beds at night."

The Canin, or 'Savage Dogs" as they were sometimes negatively referred, were a species of bipedal, sentient canines that inhabited the mountainous regions of northern Equestria. For centuries they lived in small tribes and spent their lives hunting food and fighting one another. However, about three hundred years ago one Canin born with unnatural magic abilities, Iron Claw, united the Canin into one 'Grand Tribe' and began to build a true civilization. This new unity came with a price however, and as their population grew so did their desire to expand. The territory held by Equestria was now claimed to be rightfully theirs, and they threatened to destroy the whole country if it were not handed over. The Canin began raiding into Equestria, slaughtering ponies and burning villages. Princess Celestia, eager to avoid war, managed to broker a peace. In exchange for a portion of the land in question, Chief Iron Claw would sign a treaty forbidding any Canin unauthorized access to Equestria.

The treaty was signed and the peace remained. With room to grow the Canin became more civilized and the raiding stopped, but some wounds never quite heal. Stories of the atrocities committed by the Canin were passed down from generation to generation, and so the name 'Savage Dog' lived on, despite the fact that the vast majority of ponies lived their whole lives without ever seeing one.

Twilight tried to be optimistic. She had heard the stories, had painted a mental image of rape and murder, but as a good diplomat she knew she had to put her prejudice aside. After all, the most likely explanation was simply that they had become lost and didn't realize they were in Equestrian territory. A simple explanation should be enough to convince them to leave.

They were nearing the mouth of the cave where the sighting had taken place. Suddenly a crack rang out, it sounded like thunder only sharper.

"What was that?" Twilight called out.

"I don't know, let's go find out!" Rainbow bolted for the cave entrance.

"Dang it Rainbow Dash, hold up!" Applejack called out as she chased after the Pegasus…

The creature slumped against the wall holding his abdomen. It let out one last grunt, then slumped over. Rickey cycled his weapon. The other creatures seemed shocked, as if they had never seen a firearm before.

"Which one of you bastards is next, huh?" He questioned through clenched teeth. Another made a move and his skull was blown apart before he could take a full step. Before Pearson could cycle his rifle the others charged him. One of them held what appeared to be a crude iron sword, similar in size and appearance to the blades used by Solenan banana farmers to harvest their crops. He swung it at Pearson's head, but he ducked under the attack and rammed the long bayonet into its chest. The creature fell to the ground as Pearson withdrew, but before he could regain his balance a spearhead was stabbed deep into his left thigh.

Pearson let out a howl of pain as he dropped his rifle and fell to the ground. Now one was on top of him and delivered a hard blow to his face, slamming his head into the rocky ground. Dazed and in great pain Rickey tried to resist, but he was pinned. The creature wrapped its claws around his throat and began to choke the life out of him. This was it…

"What the hay?" all eyes in the caved turned toward the entrance. There hovering a few feet off the ground was a pony like Lily with a lighter blue coat and rainbow mane. She was joined moments later by an orange pony without wings and a purple one with a small horn on her forehead.

"More food, get 'em!" The creature on top of Rickey cried as the other three charged. This was his chance, while it was distracted by the prospect of their small meal turning into a feast, Rickey managed to reach his flap holster and drew his revolver. He stabbed the weapon up into the creature's chest and fired twice in rapid succession. It let out a chocked scream as it slumped over on top of him. Breathless and weak, Rickey struggled to get out from under its massive weight.

Meanwhile the other three charged. The orange pony wheeled on her front legs to deliver a mule kick into the chest of her assailant, sending it to the ground. The blue flying pony flew over her attacker, then landed a blow with her front hooves into the back of its head, likewise sending it to the dirt. The purple pony, unlike her comrades, did not take an offensive stance; instead she seemed to be in heavy concentration. A purple aura formed at her horn, but whatever she was trying to do was to slow, and her attacker slammed into her. He lined up a blow with his crude iron sword to sever the pony's head.

Pearson managed to get free. He drew back the hammer of his revolver to get a more precise single action shot. He quickly aimed and fired just as it was about to deliver the fatal blow. The lead slug struck the creature in the skull, and it was dead before it hit the ground.

The other two creatures, stunned by the ponies' counter attacks, realized they were now out numbered. They made a quick retreat to the back of the cave. Pearson fired clumsily at his retreating foe's but managed to hit nothing, and the two creatures were lost in the darkness. He kept pulling the trigger, the hammer falling on spent cylinders.

"Who are you?...What are you?" The orange pony cried out. Pearson ignored the question as he ran to Lily. She was fading fast.

"No…Lily…stay with me!" He cried out. The other three ponies gathered around. "You have to help her, she's dying!"

The three ponies seemed in shock temporarily. They were confused by this strange creature and why he had a pony with him.

"God damnit help!" he cried out again. Twilight was the first to come to her senses.

"What's wrong with her?" She questioned.

"She's sick! Are you blind or somethin'?" He replied. He was out of breath and still bleeding from his leg, but none of that concerned him in the slightest. His only concern was Lily, and these three ponies seemed to be her only hope.

Twilight looked at the dying pegasus. "Oh my…she needs a doctor, now!"

"Yea! You got a doc with you?"

"No, not here, back in Ponyville."

"How far is it?" He asked with a small glimpse of hope returning.

"Several hours on hoof…"

"She doesn't have several hours!" he cried.

Twilight thought for a moment. "Rainbow, can you fly her to Ponyville?"

"Yea…yea of course I can!" she replied with growing confidence. She grabbed her fellow pegasus up in her hooves.

"Go Rainbow…as fast as ya'll can go, you have to help her." Applejack commanded.

"Right!" with that she took off out of the cave and in a multicolored streak towards the town.

Rickey looked on until he could see them no longer, then he collapsed in pain.

"Are you alright?" Twilight questioned. Pearson made no reply as he struggled to get to his feet.

"Whoa there, where you think you're off to?" Applejack questioned as she pushed him back down. Rickey struggled but the farmer pony held firm.

"Get off damnit! I gotta go after them…I gotta be with her."

"You ain't goin' nowhere until we get that leg patched up." Rickey let out an angry grunt, but he relented. Applejack retrieved a handkerchief from her saddle bag and wrapped it tightly around the open wound.

"So…you're a human right?" Twilight questioned.

"Yea." He replied with a grunt.

"…I uh…I mean no offense but, I've only read about your species, I've never met one…" She said sheepishly

"None taken, I ain't never seen another pony except Lily before…" He needed to get out of this cave and be with her.

"Lily, is that her name, the pony that Rainbow Dash is carrying?"

"Yea…" He got to his feet. "Which way is this Ponyville?"

"Now hold on, you need to rest." Twilight commented

"Don't you tell me what I need to do damnit!" He was growing angry, but he knew that these two ponies were only trying to help him. If it were not for them Lily would have been entirely without hope, even if he had managed to fight off all of the creatures by himself, which would not have happened. He calmed himself. "look…what's your names?"

"I'm Twilight Sparkle, and this is Applejack." The orange pony touched a hoof to the brim of her hat in salutation. "And you?"

"Pearson…Sergeant Richard Pearson." He felt a need to be formal with these unfamiliar ponies.

"Sergeant…that is a military rank yes? Are you a soldier?" Twilight questioned.

"I was…Ain't no more though."

"Well for someone who ain't a soldier you sure did a number on them Savage Dogs." Applejack commented

"I done my share of fighting…" He looked away from Applejack. These were the first civilized folks he had met in this new land, and already all he was known for was a propensity for killing. He sighed. "Savage Dogs, is that what them bastards are called?"

"They are of the Canin race…'Savage Dog' is a derogatory term for them."

"Well I reckon they've earned it." He looked around at the corpses that still littered the cave. "Bunch of bastards. Got what was commin' to 'em"

"Perhaps…I only wish we could have negotiated a peace with them, that's why we came here." Twilight replied sorrowfully.

"Negotiate?" Rickey let out a laugh before coughing from his still sore throat. "Jesus that's gotta be the dumbest thing I've ever heard." He hobbled over to the corpse of the Dog he had shot in the head with his revolver. "How about him? Think you coulda talked him out of cuttin' your head off and eatin' you for breakfast?" He let out another chuckle.

Twilight looked at him square in the eye. "Maybe not…but it doesn't change the fact that killing is wrong." She took a step closer to him. "Look, I don't know how they do things where you are from, but here in Equestria we do not take death so lightly. It is a tragedy when somepony or someone is killed, regardless of reason."

Rickey looked away from her. There was a great divide between the two species apparently. He looked at the four corpses of these 'Savage Dogs' and he felt neither pity nor remorse. On the contrary, he felt glad. These creatures had intended to do Lily harm, and therefore deserved to die. This was not simply the feelings of a desensitized soldier, but universal to humanity. If someone attempts to harm or kill the one you love, then you are justified in killing them first. Yet apparently these ponies did not feel the same. To them all killing was wrong, and while this concept was foreign to him, it was in a way the very reason he was here. It was Lily's innocence and purity that had made him love her so unconditionally. He would never want Lily to kill anything, regardless of reason. That action would be the end of what made her who she was.

He looked back at the other two ponies and sighed. There was much he had yet to learn about this place.

"Can we save the moral debate for another time?" He made his way to the mouth of the cave. "I'd appreciate it if you'd lead the way."

"You ain't gonna get far on that leg." Applejack pointed out.

"I reckon being a blood thirsty soldier has its benefits, I've been through worse." He gave a light smile to show he was only joking.

Twilight sighed and Applejack rolled her eyes, neither appreciating the humor, but they took point regardless and the long journey began…

Rickey used his Tredegar as a crutch, but it did little to relieve the pain in his leg as he walked. It seemed that the "Rifleman's Rifle" was not designed for this. He almost wished he had the old Mk1A right now, the bigger weapon could have been more assistance, but he doubted even a purpose built crutch would help him right now. He was exhausted and wounded, he had not slept in days and he had eaten very little. Again and again he had pushed his body, and now, "on the homestretch", it was all finally catching up with him.

The other two ponies had assured him that Lily was in the best care. They said that Rainbow Dash was the fastest flier in all of Equestria and that the hospital she was taking her to was staffed with very skilled and very professional ponies. But good medical care was a pretty relative term. In the army good medical care could mean that the doctors had a bottle of whiskey to give to a man before they sawed a limb off. For all he knew these ponies still thought that leeches were the ideal cure for what ails you.

These thoughts drove him on despite the pain. He had to see her, to see for himself. The sense of helplessness he had felt these past few days was growing to a point to where he felt it might overwhelm him.

After a few more minutes it was his leg, not his emotions that finally did him in, and he collapsed in pain. The two ponies rushed to him.

"Are you okay?" Twilight asked.

Rickey just grunted through clenched teeth and tried to get back to his feet. Applejack forcefully pulled him back down. Without a word he pushed her away, but this time he was held down by no one. Neither of the ponies had a hoof on him yet he was still grounded. He looked at Twilight, her horn was glowing the same way it was back in the cave.

"What…what the hell are you doing?"

"I'm holding you down; you are going to rest before you kill yourself!" Twilight replied. She seemed to be exerting little effort to keep him held like this.

"Let me go damnit!" he struggled harder but this only caused her grip to strengthen.

"I can do this all day Sergeant Pearson. If you promise me you will rest for a little while then I will let you go."

"Let go of me you freak!" he cried. The purple pony seemed a bit hurt by his insult but did not let up. Rickey continued to struggle but realized he was helpless. Finally he stopped. As frustrated as it made him, he knew that when it came down to it, these ponies were trying to help him. His pride was the issue and he knew it.

"Alright…I'll take a break…" Her horn stopped glowing and the mysterious force was lifted. "I'm sorry for calling you a freak."

"Don't worry about it. I'm assuming there isn't any magic where you are from?"

Rickey let out a chuckle. "No, there ain't nothing magical about where I'm from."

Applejack handed him an apple and with a nod of thanks he accepted and took a bite. It was possibly the most delicious piece of fruit he had ever tasted.

"This is a fine apple; it's been a while since I had fresh fruit."

"Glad ya'll like it. Fresh from mah farm." She looked at his leg. "That there bandage is bled clean through, you're gonna need a fresh one." She removed and discarded the handkerchief. She went to retrieve a fresh one from her saddlebag but was waved off by Pearson. He retrieved a roll of linen from his own haversack and wrapped the wound himself.

"Tell me something Sergeant Pearson." Twilight requested.

"Just call me Rickey…I told you I ain't a soldier no more."

"Ok...Rickey…You came from the land beyond the mountains right?"

"Yeah"

"So how did you come to know Lily?" She had an inquisitive look in her, if not a bit judging.

"It's a long story." He replied, wanting to dismiss the issue.

"We have time." Applejack interjected.

Pearson looked at the two of them, he was not going to be able to avoid this. He sighed.

"It was a cold as hell day, much like this one."…

An hour had passed. When he started the story he intended to make it short and basic, enough to answer the question and little more. But as he began to talk he began to add more and more detail. He began to realize the he wanted to tell his story, Lily's story. For so long he had to go out of his way to keep her existence a secret, now he could finally let it all out. Somehow he felt he could trust these ponies who he had only known a few hours.

He ended the story at the cave, they knew the rest.

"So you went to war, did all that, just to keep her safe?" Applejack finally asked after he had finished.

"I wish it were that simple, but yeah, that's what I tell myself." He had trouble looking at them, he felt very weak at this moment. He had never exposed himself to anyone like this before, man or pony.

"So…what is your plan now?" Twilight asked.

"To get to Lily, obviously."

"I mean after that."

He looked around. "I don't know…Never thought that far ahead." He sighed. "I guess if Lily survives, try and make a new life. If not…" After having told them his story he had no need to finish that statement.

"I'm sure she will be fine." Twilight said.

"I wish I was so sure." Rickey replied.

"She will." Applejack put a hoof on his shoulder. "You said you were a farmer before right?"

"Yea…"

"Well, when she gets better if the two of you decide to stay in Ponyville, I reckon I could find work for you on our farm."

Rickey was speechless for a moment. He would never expect such a kindness. "Thank…thank you."

Applejack just smiled and nodded. "I reckon we should get moving, what do you think Twilight?"

"I agree." The two ponies helped him to his feet and they set off…

"Is that…is that Ponyville?" Rickey asked, panting and leaning on his rifle.

"Yea, that's it." Twilight replied.

The town was less than a mile away now. Without a word Rickey stepped off. With each step his pace increased, until he was in a painful, hobbling run.

"Slow down, ya'll are gonna hurt yourself!" Applejack called as she and Twilight galloped to catch up.

His vision blurred from the pain but he kept on. He was so close.

They made it into the town proper. "Which way is the hospital!?" He cried.

"Hold on darn it!" Twilight called.

"Hospital!" was the most articulate reply he could muster.

"Over there." She pointed a hoof towards a large white building.

He began to sprint now, as he felt as if he would keel over at any moment. He had made it this far, and if he was going to die he would at least see her first.

He burst through the front door and skidded to a halt in front of a desk with what he assumed was a nurse sitting behind it.

"Where is she!?" He cried out.

"What…who…" The nurse pony seemed to be somewhat in shock.

"Lily! Where is she?"

"Sir…I don't know who that is…" She was trying her best to get control of the situation.

Twilight and Applejack came in a moment later. "Rainbow Dash brought a pegasus in earlier, where is she?"

"Oh yes…uh… Room 112." Rickey began to run down the hall. "Wait, you can't go in there!" The nurse called but he ignored it. He found the room and barged in. There he saw Lily unconscious and laying on a bed, and two other ponies. He fell to his knees next to the bed and took her hoof in his hand.

"Lily…" he wept.

"Who are you?" One of the ponies asked in a very agitated tone.

"You the doctor?"

"I am."

"Then how is she?" He did not take his eyes off of her.

"She has pneumonia." The doctor stated matter of factly

"What!? No…Oh God no…" Pneumonia was a killer and he knew it.

The doctor pony walked up to him. "Calm down, it's alright."

"Alright!? You just said she has fucking pneumonia!" He looked at the doctor as if he would murder him.

"…Look, I don't know how things are where you come from…but here it's very curable. Magical treatment has already stabilized her; she should be fine in a few days…"

Rickey looked at the doctor for a moment, and then broke down. "Thank you….thank you thank you thank you…"

"You're welcome…" The doctor looked down at his leg, which was bleeding all over the floor. "Now go with the nurse to get that taken care of."

"No…no I won't leave her…not for a second."

"If we do not stop that bleeding you won't have a choice."

"I promised!" He cried out as he clutched her hoof

"Look mister, I already told you she will be fine. Now I'll get security up her and restrain you if I have to."

He looked up at the doctor with teary eyes, and then finally nodded. The burse led him to the next room and sutured and sterilized the open wound. The nurse offered to apply a local anesthetic to help with the pain but he refused in order to get the procedure over with. It hurt, but compared to everything else that had happened it affected him little.

After a fresh dressing had been applied and a makeshift crutch had been made he was permitted to return to Lily's room. She was still asleep and he sat next to her on the bed. Twilight, Applejack, and Rainbow Dash came in the room a short time later to check on the two of them. Seeing that she was still asleep they asked if he needed anything. He responded that he didn't, and then calmly thanked them for everything they had done. If it weren't for them he knew that she would not have made it.

It was quiet now. With the exception of the occasional nurse checking in there was nothing but quiet. As he sat there he finally had time to contemplate on everything that had happened. It was finally over. They had made it to their destination.

Lily stirred. Slowly she opened her eyes. "Where…where are we?"

"In a hospital Lily." He said as calmly as he could.

"I had the strangest dream…I dreamt that a pony…like me…but with a rainbow colored mane was carrying me through the skies."

"That wasn't a dream Lily. A pony named Rainbow Dash brought you here."

"…You mean that…there are others like me?" She asked, with tears welling up in her eyes.

"Yes Lily…" With that she began to cry. Rickey could tell they were tears of joy.

Neither said anything else. Shortly she fell back asleep, her face in his chest. He laid down on the bed and closed his eyes. Now, for the first time in four years, he could sleep without worry. They had made it.

* * *

><p>Almost 6,000 words, by far the longest chapter i have written. Well there it is, Rickey and Lily have finally made it to Equestria. This isn't the end, far from it. In a way the story is just getting started. There will be more to come soon, i hope you all have enjoyed it so far.<p> 


	16. Chapter Sixteen: A Quiet Peace

**A Feather in the Hat**

Chapter Sixteen: A Quiet Life

"Damn roots on this tree go pretty deep, eh pard?"

"Eeyup"

Rickey sighed, and then put his hands on the truck of the dead apple tree again. "Alright, on three…One…Two…Three!" The rope wrapped around the trunk went taught, it connected to the yoke that Big Macintosh habitually wore. The deep red stallion grunted in exertion, as did Rickey. He pushed against the tree with all of his might, his newly re-treaded combat boots dug into the fertile Equestrian soil.

"Come on you bastard!" he cried. Finally he heard something snap. "It's commin'!" he cried out as he felt the trunk move slightly. Now the duo, man and pony, doubled their efforts. The tree began to move, and once it breached the point of no return gravity took over, and Rickey fell with the tree. The impact was minor, and he rolled off the fallen trunk both laughing and panting.

"Gotcha you bastard." He said as he jokingly patted the trunk. He got up and walked over to where Big Mac was standing, panting as he was, but still on his hooves. He untied the rope from his yoke.

"Thanks." The stallion said between pants.

"No problem pard." He and Big Mac walked over to the fallen tree and sat down on its trunk. Rickey took a long drink from his canteen then offered it to Big Mac who gladly accepted.

"That tree was a bitch huh?"

"Got deep roots, makes for better apples." Big Mac replied proudly.

Rickey chuckled as he took back his canteen. He should know by now that the stallion would never say a foul word about one of his precious apple trees, no matter how much trouble they caused him, he was too proud.

It had been three months since he had fought the Savage Dogs in the mountains. Lily had recovered quickly from her sickness, just as the doctor said she would. He was told that magic was a big part of her treatment, a concept he still did not fully understand. Applejack was true to her word, and once Lily had been released from the hospital the two moved into the barn and Rickey got to work. Within a week he had proven himself an asset to the farm, proving there were some tasks a biped with hands could perform more efficiently than a quadruped. After that the two were given a spare bedroom in the farm house, where they had lived ever since.

As the two rested on the tree trunk little Applebloom trotted up. "Hi Big Mac, Hi Mr. Pearson!"

"Hey sis." Big Mac replied

"Good evening Applebloom, how was school?" Pearson questioned.

"Boring! Same as always. But its ok, me and Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo are gonna go try and get our carriage cleanin' cutie marks after supper."

"Carriage cleanin'?" Pearson looked over at Big Mac who just shook his head softly.

"Yep! That nice stallion who owns the carriage dealership in town said he'd be more than happy to let us wash his carriages to see if we can get our cutie marks."

Pearson chuckled. _You mean he wants free labor. _Perhaps not all ponies were wholly kindhearted and honest. "Well best of luck to ya'll."

"Thanks! Be seein' you two at supper!" with that she trotted to the house.

He had learned about cutie marks and their role in society. He spent much of his free time reading books from Twilight's library, primarily on Equestrian history and culture. So much of it seemed strange to him, but that was to be expected. He already found himself adapting to his new environment.

"Reckon its getting' about supper time. Figure we head in and get this tree cut up tomorrow morning?" He looked over at his partner who nodded with a trademark "Eeyup."

The two headed for the house. He had found a friend in Big Macintosh. The big stallion said little, but as he spent the majority of his time on the farm with his all-female family, he was lacking in male companionship. The Apple Family was known throughout Equestria for its cider. Every season Big Mac would stash away a few barrels for himself and ferment them. Every now and then after the day's labors were complete he would take some time for himself and have a mug or two in the barn. He now shared this past time with Rickey, and he noticed that the normally stoic and quiet stallion would liven up a bit after a few drinks.

Alcohol, he discovered, was not a part of Equestrian culture as it was in human society. It's not that there was really a negative stigma associated with it, drinking just wasn't something ponies as a whole did. It wasn't produced commercially, and for those ponies who did partake, it was self-made and treated almost like a hobby. Cases of public drunkenness and alcoholism were almost non-existent.

They made it to the house. Applebloom had already gone inside and Granny Smith met them at the door.

"Oh no ya don't!" She ordered. "Ya'll are filthy, ain't commin' in here like that, no sir!"

Rickey and Big Mac both looked down at themselves. It seems the battle against the tree had left its muddy marks.

"Go'n get yourselves washed up." The elderly earth pony pointed a wrinkled hoof towards the side of the house where a wash basin waited.

"Yes ma'am" both said in unison and walked around the house to comply. As Rickey scrubbed the mud from his clothes and himself he looked up to see Lily and Applejack walked up the path. They were both hitched to the apple cart and talking to one another. They took the cart to the barn then walked up to where the two laborers were washing themselves.

"You boys have fun playin' in the mud?" Applejack asked with a chuckle.

Big Mac said nothing, just rolled his eyes and kept at his previous task. Rickey chuckled a bit then looked at Lily. "So how'd it go?"

"Uh…good." She said sheepishly.

"Shoot, ya'll did mighty fine for your first day! A few more weeks and I reckon ya'll will be ready to run the cart all by yourself!" She playfully tussled Lily's mane, who looked at the ground with her ears drooped.

"Heh, yea." She replied in a small voice as she scratched at the ground with her hoof.

It came as no surprise that Lily was very anxious around other ponies. She had after all spent her whole life in isolation, and having the idea that strangers were to be avoided at all cost drilled into her since she was but a filly. Naturally she staid very close to him, and while he certainly didn't resist, he did try to help her overcome her anxieties. Today had been the first day she had gone into town without him, and he had worried about her all day. But he knew Applejack would look after her, she had a strong devotion to her friends and family, plus her teaching Lily how to sell apples would build her confidence.

Applejack had already gone inside. Big Mac and Rickey had satisfactorily cleaned themselves and now they and Lily headed in to sit down to a warm meal after a hard day's work.

The meal was good and plentiful, a casserole made from the spoils of the Apple Family's extensive garden. He was beginning to grow accustomed to a vegetarian diet. While he did miss the thought of a prime cut of steak or a smoked sausage, he hadn't had either of those in years anyway, and the loss of such was a sacrifice he was willing to make. When he enlisted, he left many things behind him: a home, a family, and Lily. Now he had all of those things, and he was happy.

The horrors of the battlefield already seemed to be a distant memory. It had only been three months since he had last heard the sharp report of a rifle, the screaming of a shell, or the buzzing of aircraft, but somehow it seemed longer. He still wore the pistol he had taken off of the recruiter on his voyage home. All though he felt safe in this new land, he didn't feel _that_ safe. He hoped the day would come when he would finally unbuckle his pistol belt for good, but he wasn't quite ready yet. His Tredegar hung on the wall that he and Lily shared. It was not there to be readily accessible in the event of crisis, but as a reminder of how far he had come to be where he was. He had set off to make the world safe for Lily, and now she was living in a world where she was safe. In some strange and twisted way, Rickey Pearson had won his war.

The Apple Family was just like any other family at the dinner table. All the members talked about their days, and usually the youngest talked the most. Applebloom yammered incessantly about how her and her fellow "Cutie Mark Crusaders" were going to get their marks in one crazy thing or another. The dinner table's occupants just quietly humored the young filly, all except one. Rickey looked over at Lily, who stared at the floor with a look of depression on her face. He had come to learn that it was very odd for a pony as old as Lily to be a "Blank Flank". The fact only worsened her anxiety around other ponies.

Rickey reached a hand over the table and rested it on her hoof. The contact broke her out of her trance of self-pity and made her smile lightly. "You wanna take a walk after supper?"

Rickey smiled; there old tradition from when they were both young had followed them over the mountains. "I'd love too."

After the table had been cleared and the dishes done, Rickey and Lily set off. The sun was setting now, and like all sunsets in Equestria, it was strikingly beautiful. He and Lily walked through the east orchard, whose high hills made for the best view of the setting sun.

Rickey looked about then down to her. "Well, ain't no one else about. So tell me honestly, how did it go?"

Lily sighed. "I was really nervous the whole time."

"I figured about as much." He smiled down at her. "Give it time sweetheart. No one expects you to be able to able to do it over night."

"Yea…I guess." Lily looked back towards Ponyville. "I want to be able to talk to other ponies better…but I just get choked up."

"I know." They walked a few more paces in silence. "Anyone give you shit for…" he gestured to her flank.

"No…well…" She looked away.

"Well what?"

"I don't think they were trying to be nasty, like those two little brats that bully Applebloom…but there were a few ponies wondering aloud why a pony as old as me ain't got her cutie mark."

"Just gotta give that time too I guess. You'll figure it out; those other ponies just don't know how special you are."

Lily let out a frustrated grunt. "Rickey!"

"What?"

"Stop doing that!"

"What the hell am I doing?" He knew perfectly well what he was doing, but he hoped to divert her anger by feigning ignorance.

"You're being the over protective big brother again. I ain't a filly anymore."

Rickey sighed and sat down in the grass. "Can't let a man have his dreams can you?" Lily just rolled her eyes. "I'm sorry, old habits and all. It's hard Lily. I left and you were still my little Lily flower, when I came back you were all grown up."

"I'm still your little Lily flower, we've been over this remember?" She sat down next to him. "But I'm not a filly anymore. I'll always need my big brother, but right now I need my best friend more."

"I'll try my level best." He put an arm around her shoulders.

The two sat in silence for a long while, watching the sun make its final descent below the horizon. As the brilliant orange orb finally slipped from view Lily spoke: "Tell me something Rickey, if you were a pony, what would your cutie mark be?"

Rickey looked down at her for a moment. "That's a pretty silly question."

"Just answer it."

He sighed. "No idea. Let's see, I've been an orphan, a farmer, a soldier, then a farmer again. How about one of those, take your pick."

Lily grew more frustrated. "Come on, you're not even trying."

"Well, I guess if I had to figure out one image that would represent my destiny, then my cutie mark would be a picture of you."

"Argh!" she stood up. "You're doin' it again!"

"No I'm not!"

"Yes you are!"

"No, I'm not." He said calmly. "Lily, since the day I met you I knew you were my destiny." He looked deep into her big green eyes. "I'll I've cared about since that day is you bein' safe and happy. I reckon I got the safe part down, now I just gotta worry 'bout the happy part."

Lily sat back down. "I am happy Rickey."

"I don't think so."

"I am." She said fervently. "Things get frustrating sometimes, but at the end of the day I am happy. There's no more war, no more death, no more having to live in fear every day that the Federals are gonna come take me away from you." With that last statement she nuzzled his chest. "I am happy, and I know I'll get over my fears one day."

"And you'll find your destiny, just like I did, all them years ago."

When the last rays of sunlight gave way to the night Rickey and Lily headed home. Lily helped Applebloom with her homework, and Rickey joined Big Mac in the barn for a few mugs of hard cider. As exhaustion took over Rickey and Lily crawled into the small bed they shared. Lily fell asleep quickly, but Rickey lay awake for a little while longer. He had a lot on his mind, most of it concerning Lily and her problems. Eventually he was able put these out of his mind, realizing that if his greatest concern was helping Lily to get over her anxieties then he really was doing alright. Rickey Pearson had won his war, at least most of it. As he closed his eyes he caught one last glimpse at the Tredegar rifle hanging on the wall, for some reason strongly illuminated by the moonlight through the window. As he dozed off one of the old songs sung on the march became stuck in his head. When he finally slipped into unconsciousness one verse stuck out:

_When evil stalks upon the land_

_I'll neither sit, nor stay my hand_

_I'll fight to win a better day_

_Over the hills and far away._


	17. Chapter Seventeen: When Duty Calls Me

**A Feather in the Hat**

Chapter Seventeen: When Duty Calls Me

Rickey Pearson sang to himself as he hammered in new shingles on the house's angled roof. The shingles were made of wood from the apple tree he and Big Mac had pulled over the previous day. They had set out early that morning to cut up the dead tree, and upon finding that the trunk was housing some serviceable wood they had carved some new shingles to replace the more rotted ones on the roof. He didn't think untreated apple wood was the choice wood for roofing; he had used treated pine in the past. But the shingles were indicative of the Apple Family way of life. They used what they had whenever possible. It kept them as self-sufficient as possible and their overhead low, and Rickey respected the practice. These were hardworking, honest folk, and he was proud to be counted among their tribe.

He glanced towards the direction of Ponyville. Applejack had taken Lily into to town that morning for day two in her apprenticeship as a salespony. He wondered how she was faring right now. She had left the house that morning with more confidence than the previous day, but he had no doubt that she was still very anxious. He chuckled. It would pass, he was sure of it.

He kept hammering away at the roof. After spending the morning cutting up the dead tree and hauling the logs and timbers up to the barn, some destined to become firewood and the few chosen to become shingles, his back had grown quite sore. He ignored the pain; he had after all been much sorer.

He kept singing to himself. It was the same song that had been stuck in his head the previous night, and it seemed that sleep had not served to remedy the situation. It was a little annoying, but he didn't mind too much. He liked the song; it was upbeat and hopeful at times yet sad without being despairing, a fine song for soldiers to sing as they marched into battle.

"When duty calls me I must go, to 'list and fight another foe. But part of me will still remain, over the hills and…"

"Mr. Pearson!" A loud cry had interrupted his singing. Initially Pearson became alarmed, and instinct drew his right hand to the holstered revolver on his belt. Cautiously, he peaked over the edge of the roof.

It was Spike, Twilight Sparkle's assistant. Pearson had met the little dragon a few times and he liked him. He had the innocence of a child, but was crafty if not a little bit devious. He was sharper than the other ponies gave him credit for.

"Mr. Pearson!" He called again. "Where are you?"

"Up here pard." He leaned off the roof enough so Spike could see him. "What is it, somethin' wrong?"

Spike ran to the base of the latter before responding so he wouldn't have to keep yelling. "No, nothing's wrong, I have a message for you."

"A message?" he asked, dumbfounded. "Hold on." He climbed down the ladder. "Who the hell would be sending a message to me?"

"The Princess!" He said with an excited smile.

"Why would…Oh no." He had been slightly worried about this possibility. "No but…Twilight said the Princess had granted me…damnit all, what's the word I'm lookin' for?"

"Permanent residency." Was the reply from the dragon that was becoming confused by Rickey's behavior. Weren't folks happy to receive a personal invitation from Princess Celestia herself?

"Yea that! Why would she be wantin' to kick me out now?" Equestria didn't have a system for the naturalization of foreigners. This was due to the largely to a desire to maintain a largely homogenous population. It wasn't out of contempt for other races, It was simply that Equestria was the land of ponies, always had been always will be. There were provisions however for permanent residency. They couldn't vote or own land but otherwise had all of the legal rights and protections of citizens. Rickey didn't feel it appropriate to involve himself in the politics of this land, not that he cared to anyway. Nor did he ever see himself being in a position to own property. He was content to spend the rest of his days on this apple farm, but now he feared that might be taken away from him.

"Kick you out of where? What are you talking about?" Spike looked at him as a man would look at a lost dog.

"Here! Equestria!"

The dragon stared at him for a moment, then laughed. "Wow, no offense but you act like the whole world is out to get you sometimes, I mean…" He trailed off. Twilight had explained Pearson's story to him, at least as much as she knew. She had warned him that all though he seemed to be a genuinely good person, he should always remain at least a little cautious around him. She had seen what he was capable of in the cave. Spike didn't feel the same way. Rickey had always been nice to him, and had shown him more respect than the other ponies seemed to. But now his eyes drifted to the leather holster on Pearson's hip, the flap of which was un fastened.

"Nopony's trying to kick you out Mr. Pearson." Spike stated in a sober, almost scared tone, his eyes still on the holster. Twilight had explained to him that the leather pouch Pearson always wore carried a powerful weapon, a weapon he had used to kill two Savage Dogs, one of which was only moments away from cutting off Twilight's head. Pearson followed the young dragon's gaze. He quickly snapped the holster shut.

"Sorry pard, just old habits." He put on a reassuring smile. "So if the Princess ain't tryin' to give me the boot then what's the message about?"

"It's an invitation; she wants to meet you I guess." Spike then handed him the scroll and he read it. It was an invitation, just as the dragon had said. It's verbiage was grandiose and not all that straight forward, so it took him a moment to fully interpret everything. Essentially it said that the Princess was inviting him to the Royal Court in Canterlot to meet him tomorrow, and that all travel and lodging arrangements were made. He was to board a train tomorrow morning; the ticket would be waiting for him.

"Why in God's name would Princess Celestia wanna meet some poor bastard like me?" He questioned, more to himself than to the dragon.

"No clue, guess you're gonna find out!"

"Yea, I reckon so…" he looked down at the document again. There was no indication of why, only when and where. He carefully folded the parchment and put it in his trouser pocket.

"Well good luck tomorrow, I should be heading back I guess." Spike gestured towards Ponyville.

"Yea, thanks for bringing me this. Good seein' ya pard, take care of yourself." Spike gave a friendly nod then began to walk off. "Wait, hold on a sec." He paused and looked back at Rickey. "Sorry again about earlier," he said touching the holster on his hip. "I didn't mean anything by it."

"It's okay, I'm sure Twilight was just exaggerating."

"Huh?" Rickey questioned.

"Oh, nothing…just Twilight warned me to be careful, that's all…" The young dragon did not meet his gaze out of embarrassment.

"You mean around me?"

"Yea, but don't think anything of it! That pony over analyses _everything._" He let out a nervous laugh. He didn't want Pearson to think everypony was afraid of him. The story of what he had done in the cave had spread quickly around the small town. Some ponies were awed by it, the Canin were like boogeymen to them, and the thought of one individual taking on seven of them and living to tell the tale was impressive. Others however were afraid of him; they saw a linear correlation between killing power and evil. If he could kill four Savage Dogs by himself, Celestia only knows what he could do to ponies.

"It's alright, I understand." He smiled to try and put Spike's unspoken concerns at ease. "Reckon I still got a lotta work to do convincing folks I ain't a bad fella."

Spike nodded. "Might help a little if you weren't wearing that all the time maybe?" He pointed to the holster.

Rickey sighed. "Ain't quite there yet pard."

Spike nodded, trying to show he understood though honestly he didn't. "Well, just think about it I guess." He then turned, and without another word headed for home.

Rickey stood there for a while longer. He took out the scroll and read it again, then returned to his pocket. He had so many questions and no answers. He wondered if he should go into town and tell Lily, but he decided against it. This wasn't happening until tomorrow and she no doubt had enough on her mind right now. Besides, there was still work to be done. He climbed back up the ladder and continued re-shingling the old roof…

That evening he told everypony of the invitation over supper. They were all excited for him. They talked endlessly about how great Princess Celestia was. Rickey had heard countless times since he had arrived in Equestria of the Princess's grace. He really hoped the stories were true and not just some cult of personality. He was a former revolutionary, going to meet a monarch, it was all so strange.

After supper Lily helped him pack for his trip. It wasn't really necessary, he owned practically nothing, but it was symbolic. This would be the first time they would be separated for more than a couple hours since the war.

"Sure wish I was going with you." Lily said as she handed him a shirt.

"Me too…" He folded the shirt and put it in his pack. Applejack had introduced him to her friend Rarity, who like Applejack was one of the elements of harmony, yet another concept he did not understand. Rarity saw the dirty, blood stained shirt he was wearing and insisted that she make him a replacement. He ended up with three new shirts and trousers mended to look like they were fresh from the quartermaster. She also refused payment, saying that experimenting with such an unfamiliar body shape was challenging and fun.

"How long do you think you'll stay there?"

"No idea." He said honestly. "Hopefully not more than a few days."

"You wouldn't want to stay longer? From what the family says Canterlot is beautiful."

"I'm sure it's grand, but there's work 'round here to do." He then looked at her. "Besides, I got a promise to keep."

Lily smiled and leaned against his shoulder. "Wish I could meet the princess, she sounds so lovely."

"You will, I'm sure. Hell you're friends with her personal student."

"Heh, yea." Lily wasn't sure if she would consider Twilight Sparkle a friend in the same way she would consider Applejack a friend. The pony was always very nice to her of course, but she always had an unending stream of questions for her about humans and their culture, and Lily was unable to answer many of them. The truth was everything she knew about Polara was second hand. She of course never dared to venture into town and the only connection with the outside world was her family.

Lily moved from his shoulder and looked him over. "What are you planning on wearing?"

"Huh?"

"Well, you don't plan on meeting the Princess in shirt sleeves do you?"

Rickey paused then looked down at himself. He hadn't really thought about it like that. With the exception of once being sent as a runner to General Calvert's headquarters with a message begging for reinforcements he had never met anyone of high importance. "Guess I never did get around to asking Rarity to make me a tailored suit did?"

Lily chuckled. "Guess not. How about your greatcoat?"

Rickey shook his head. "Naw, that ratty ol' thing will make me look even more like a bum. Besides, even though it's in the mountains, Canterlot's supposed to be pretty warm." His army issue great coat was thick and bulky, and would no doubt cause him to sweat like a pig.

Lily thought for a moment then reached under the bed, retrieving a bundle wrapped in brown paper. "How about this? She opened the package to reveal his sergeant's tunic. He hadn't seen it in months, and it looked fit for a dress parade. "I asked Rarity if she would fix it up like your trousers."

Rickey paused for a moment as he looked at his old uniform. "Why Lily?"

She shrugged, then pointed to the battered Tredegar hanging on the wall. "Same reason you have that up there. 'Cause you're proud of it."

"No." He shook his head. "I'm not proud of it"

"Yes you are." She set down the tunic and took his hand in her hooves. "You don't have to hide it Rickey. Remember what you said when I left the hospital? That we could finally put the past behind us and start new lives? Well you are right, but that doesn't mean we have to forget the past."

"There are some parts of my past that I do wanna forget Lily." His mind drifted to images of dead bodies littering the battle field, of men being blown apart by exploding shells, and of enemy soldiers skewered on his bayonet.

"Me too. But it wouldn't be right to forget." She looked up at him and he nodded in agreement. "It's okay to be proud Rickey. I'm proud of you. As much as I didn't want you to go, as much as I wished every day you would walk through the front door, I was still proud of you. You were trying to make the world a better place."

Rickey said nothing. He still felt he was wrong in leaving Lily for the war, but the past few months had given him time to question that belief. He would likely never figure it out completely.

"Still, I ain't a soldier no more. I don't think it would be right to meet the Princess in uniform."

"Well like you said, it's not like you have anything else to wear." She picked up the tunic again. "Maybe if we take these off it would look less like a uniform?" She pointed to the chevrons on each sleeve.

Rickey shook his head then took the tunic. He remembered the moment he had been made a sergeant. It was not on a parade ground with the musicians playing "Battle Cry of Freedom" like it was supposed to be. It was on the summit of a hill, a fortified Federal position the 14th had taken heavy casualties to capture. His sergeant was killed in the charge and as he stood there surveying the carnage Captain McGuire walked up and handed him the pair of chevrons. "Sew these on when you get the chance. Do them honor, and take care of my boys Sergeant." After that he walked off. Pearson had stood there for a long while, realizing the great responsibility he had been given.

Pride. He glanced at Lily for a moment. He certainly was proud then. Captain McGuire, the man he owed an eternal debt of gratitude towards, had trusted him with ten of his men. It was his undying loyalty to the doctor that drove him to try and be the best NCO he could be, to be strict and enforce discipline but always look out for his men.

"I still think you should wear it." Lily said as she looked at the butternut tunic. "Do you remember the picture you sent to me?"

Rickey nodded. He remembered that picture well. It was after the Riverview Guards mustered into the 14th, the day they had been finally issued their uniforms. They had spent their entire training in civilian clothes, and every man yearned for the promised uniforms so they could finally feel like proper soldiers. On that day the photographers set up a tent, and the entire regiment lined up to have their picture made. They were proud then, and ready to fight. Rickey had stood tall in his new butternut tunic and grey trousers, a Tredegar in his hands and the slouch hat with the blue feather on his head. Those were the happy times. The times when defeat seemed impossible, when the Revolutionary Army won victory after victory, when whole regiments of Federals crossed the lines to loin their brothers in the fight for liberty. It was before the Federal Conscription Act, before the Battle of Polara City, before four years of hell on earth had consumed that long line of proud and eager men.

"I used to look at that picture a lot and wonder where you were, what you were doing." She smiled and blushed a little. "I always thought you looked so handsome in your new uniform."

Rickey chuckled. "So did I, we all did back then. We thought we were the most dashing bunch 'o soldiers ever seen."

"Wish I still had that picture." She sighed and looked at the ground. "I guess it burned along with everything else."

"Ain't as young as I was back then," Rickey stood up and put on the tunic. "But I'll give it a shot. How does it look?"

Lily smiled and gave a nod. "Just like I remember."

Rickey turned towards the small mirror in the room. As he stared into it he did not see his reflection, just a proud rebel, ready to go off and free the world from tyranny. He remembered all the friends he had made; how they had talked while standing in line about how they were gonna whip the Feds. A wave of emotion rode over him. He sat back down and removed the tunic.

"I wish I wasn't going." He said the words low, almost a whisper.

"Why?"

He sighed. "I don't know. It just doesn't feel right."

"It'll be okay Rickey." She rubbed his shoulder. In reality she did not want him to go either. Having him gone for even a couple days made her uncomfortable.

"I'm sure it will, but I'll be glad when the damn fool thing is over."

"Me too. Let's get some sleep, big day tomorrow." Rickey nodded and turned out the light…

The next morning they rose early. The Apple Family had wanted to accompany them to the train station to see him off and wish him well but he calmly requested the he and Lily go alone, saying that they wanted some alone time together. They agreed, although they didn't really understand what the big deal was. It was only for a few days after all, but Rickey didn't really expect them to.

The walked mostly in silence, the two of them enjoying the cool Equestrian morning. When they arrived at the train station he was given his ticket, then the two waited from the conductor to announce the departure.

"Wish you had a camera." Lily said, breaking the silence. "You remember the little camera mama had?"

"Oh yea." Mrs. Davis was quite the shutter bug. She always wanted to record any event in film to ensure the memory would last. All those memories were gone now except for the one picture he had taken to the front with him, the one that had brought him comfort on all of those cold, deadly nights. That picture was with him now, in the breast pocket of his tunic, its home for the last four years.

"It would be nice if you could take some pictures on your trip, so I could see what Canterlot was like."

"We'll go one day." Rickey said to her with a smile.

"Huh?"

"On a trip, that's the one thing we never got to do together. I think in a couple months when we've got enough money saved we can go, see all the grand things this land has to offer."

Lily smiled. "I'd like that."

"Me too."

"Ponyville to Canterlot, all aboard!" the conductor called.

"Well, guess it's time." He brought Lily into a tight hug. "Gonna miss you."

"Gonna miss you too Rickey. Be careful. I love you."

"I love you too." He broke the hug, then picked up his pack and boarded the train…

There were few others on the train as it left Ponyville. He recognized some of the local faces, some had waved to him and voiced their good mornings, others ignored him and kept their distance. As the train chugged along he read a book he had borrowed from Twilight's library, a book about Equestrian history. He had borrowed several books from the unicorn over the past three months, most of them about history and culture.

The train stopped in a city called Fillydelphia and more ponies boarded. Many of them gave him strange looks as the passed him down the center aisle. He smiled and nodded politely to them as they passed. As the train began to move again he noticed that some were still staring at him and whispering amongst themselves. He ignored them and returned to the book, but eventually that lost his interest. Eventually he returned it to his pack and contended himself with the view out of the window.

The Equestrian countryside was every bit as beautiful as he imagined. He was awed by the sights. As a soldier he had traveled throughout the majority of Polara, and nothing he had ever seen of that country even came close to this place.

After a few more hours and a long winding trip through the mountain tunnels the train finally stopped at the station in Canterlot. He disembarked with the rest of the passengers. He was going to ask directions, but all it took was glance skyward to find his destination. He shouldered his pack and began walked towards the Royal Palace…

"Your Majesty, you must understand that we are on your side on this matter." The Canin ambassador spoke in a diplomatic tone, but there was a very subtle hint of sarcasm, as if it was ridiculous for her to have any other line of thought.

"Yes I do Ambassador Steel Coat, but _you_ must understand that my ponies are being killed. I cannot just sit idly by and let this happen."

"We do understand Your Majesty. I assure you that the Grand Chief is, as we speak, devoting greater resources to rounding up and exterminating these insurrectionists." He paused a moment before continuing. "They are, after all, a greater threat to us than they are to you."

Princess Celestia looked over the ambassador for a moment. He was much larger than the average Canin, but that was to be expected. The social hierarchy of the Canin was based as much on physical size and strength as it was intelligence. He wore a sword on his belt, a large weapon in a gilded scabbard and with a hilt embedded with various jewels. It was the same sword she had seen for three hundred years, it was his badge of office. He wore a robe that was a patch work of various colors. In all of her years dealing with the Canin, she never understood their leaders' obsessions with such gaudy clothes.

She stepped down from the throne and began to walk forwards. Steel Coat gave a respectful bow as she approached.

"Ambassador." She spoke her words harshly. "Nothing is a greater threat, nor is anything of more importance to me, than a group that wishes to harm my citizens." She leaned her head down closer. "If this situation does change quickly I will be forced to intervene on behalf of my ponies."

Steel Coat rose from his bow and spoke in a tone matching the Princess's. "With all do respect Your Majesty, with what, may I ask?" he let the question hang for a moment before continuing. "Your Royal Guard? I assure you Your Majesty, if you were to send them against the rebels they would be roasting over cook fires within a week. I ask that you only mind the treaty that you signed and leave the affairs of the Grand Tribe to itself."

Over a millennia of dealing with diplomats served to quell the urge within her to lash out at the ambassador's blatant arrogance and disrespect. Instead she ignored the words as if they had never been spoken and addressed the Canin in a stern but calm voice. "You will leave for the Grand Tribe immediately and tell Chief Iron Claw what I have said here. Please convey my respects to him but do tell him that I am serious. No more of my ponies will be harmed."

Steel Coat realized he had been beaten, he had hoped to get a rise out of the Princess, but that had failed. He bowed politely. "Highness," and turned to leave.

Celestia watched him go when one of the guards marched up and leaned in close to her ear. "Mr. Pearson is here Your Majesty."

Celestia smiled. "Yes, send him in."

Rickey Pearson had stood in front of the huge doors for an irritatingly long time. He was growing ever more anxious when finally a Royal Guardspony spoke up: "You're to go in now."

Rickey nodded and took a deep breath as two more Gaurdsponies opened the huge doors to let him through. He stepped off. Nopony had thought to brief him on the proper procedure of entering the throne room, so instead he went off of well drilled habit. He marched in at the quick step, 120 beats per minute, 30 inches heel to toe. As he marched in he saw out of the corner of his eye a figure moving the opposite direction. Initially he ignored it, wanting to keep his bearing. But as the two closed on each other he noticed that it walked on two legs, and when the distance separating them was a mere few feet he turned his head ever so slightly to bring the figure into focus.

He wanted to live a peaceful life, honest to God he did. You can take the soldier out of the war easy enough, but taking the war out of the soldier wasn't so easy. As had happened so many times since he bid his final farewell to the army, his instinct took over. His right hand ripped steel from leather and he aimed the revolver at the Savage Dog.

The Savage Dog replied in kind, drawing the big jeweled sword and readying a killing blow. The two faced one another down at the ready. Activity stirred all around them as Guardsponies rushed in, but none of them attempted to subdue either combatant, they merely made a perimeter around them as they shouted for them to lay down their weapons.

Neither Rickey nor the Canin paid any attention to them; their focus was solely on their adversary, each calculating their tactical situation. Rickey wished he had his Tredegar for he doubted the killing efficiency of the revolver in his hand against the very large Savage Dog. The weapon, a Federal Service Pattern, with its .38 New Army cartridge, was nowhere near the man stopper of its predecessor. The old sidearm was a big, rugged .45 single action. Rickey had once owned one, a Cavalry Pattern with its long 8" barrel that he had taken off of a dead Federal trooper. He lost it many years ago, had he still had it he would have no qualms about firing first.

The standoff lasted a few more tension filled seconds, then the large Canin lowered his guard. "Are you going to kill me? Then do it." Rickey said nothing, just held his aim. "I know who you are, you're the one they call the 'Brown coated devil.' You killed four Canin in a cave, yes?"

"You're damn right I did."

The Canin laughed. "Good, then I suppose I should be thanking you."

"What?" Rickey questioned, still not lowering the revolver.

"Those Canin where rebels who violated our laws, the two you didn't kill were captured and executed, but not before they spoke of you. They said you fought with such ferocity." He looked Pearson up and down for a moment, and then chuckled. "I'm not impressed."

He turned to his left and gave a bow, "Majesty." Then walked away, the Gaurdsponies who still surrounded them letting him pass.

Rickey felt eyes on him as he holstered his weapon. It wasn't the eyes of the Gaurdsponies, it was much more powerful eyes, and he did not need to see them to know who they belonged to. He sighed and dropped his head. He was invited to meet Princess Celestia herself and before he could had even spoken to her he had made a complete and total ass of himself.

"I beg your pardon." He said weakly as he slowly turned to meet her gaze. What he saw when he could finally see beyond the brim of his slouch hat was not the look of disapproval he had expected, but a majestic face wearing a calming, knowing look. It was as if she had known this would happen and it did not surprise her in the least.

"It is quite alright, I know of your experience with the Canin. It is only natural for someone with your background to react in such a way."

"Still, you…" He sighed in embarrassment. "I don't exactly know what I'm supposed to call you."

"Your Majesty!" One of the Guardsponies shouted.

"Your Majesty, I still can apologize enough. That was wrong of me; I ain't like that no more, I promise. Just caught me off guard is all."

Celestia held up a hoof. "As I said, it is alright. No harm was done." She turned to the circle of Guards. "It's alright now, return to your posts."

The Guardsponies hesitated for a moment. Celestia smiled and nodded, then finally the circle disbanded as they returned to their posts along the wall.

"I've been in this throne room all day, would you join me outside for some fresh air?" she asked almost candidly.

"Yea…as you wish Your Majesty." Celestia led the way. Some Gaurdsponies made a motion to follow but she silently waved them off. She led him to beautiful garden, filled with a wide variety of flowering plants. Some other ponies milled about, members of the Royal Court he guessed.

"A beautiful day isn't it?" She asked.

"Yes Your Majesty." He said as he followed a pace behind.

"There is no need for such formality out here. Just call me Princess." She looked at him with a calming smile.

"Yes ma'am" he said after a moment's hesitation.

She smiled, "That will have to do." They walked a few more feet. "Let me start out by thanking you, Sergeant Pearson, for accepting my invitation. I'm very pleased to meet you."

Rickey paused for a moment to think of his response. "The pleasure is all mine Princess, but please just call me Rickey, or Mr. Pearson, which ever it is you prefer. I ain't a sergeant no more."

"Please forgive me. Perhaps I am mistaken, but is that not the insignia of a sergeant in human armies?" She pointed a hoof to the chevrons on each sleeve.

"Well yes…but I ain't a soldier now."

"Yet you still wear the uniform of one?" She raised one eyebrow in questioning.

"I wear it 'cause it's the only suit of clothes I own." He let out a nervous chuckle. "All I own was carried on my back over them mountains." He pointed to the east. The silhouettes of the great mountain chain could be seen very faintly from Canterlot's high elevation.

"Of course." She said with a nod. "Twilight told me the story of your journey. She also told me how you saved her life in the cave. I want to thank you from the bottom of my heart for that."

"I don't know about all of that." His face wore the hint of embarrassment. Pearson was not a man accustomed to praise or gratitude. During that chaotic fight in the cave he was operating solely off of killing instinct.

"Oh? Had you not been there things would have likely ended very badly for Twilight and her friends." Celestia gave him a knowing look, and Pearson knew it was more than just an idle statement. He took a few moments to compose his thoughts.

"Things would have ended differently, of that I have no doubt. But who knows which way it would've gone. I fired first."

"Hmmm. Fair enough." They stood in silence for a while, he kept his eyes on the Princess but she did not return the gesture, instead she looked out at the garden, occasionally letting out a pleasant sigh as she took in the crisp spring air.

Rickey could feel the immense power radiating from the Princess. It was not just her physical magic he felt, but the power of her personality. He could feel the many centuries of wisdom and leadership. He knew that he had not been summoned here to take part in pleasant conversation. He doubted the Princess ever did anything that wasn't calculated for effect. He was growing restless inside, he wanted to know the point of this meeting, but he knew that the two of them were at a standoff and the first one to speak would lose. As he stood there watching the majestic pony he realized that she could wait an eternity. It was a battle he could not win.

"Um, Princess? With all due respect could you please tell me why it is you called me here? I don't reckon it was just to thank me for what happened in that cave."

She looked at him with a confident smile, knowing she won. "Tell me Mr. Pearson, how do you find Equestria?"

He took a moment to answer. How could one describe it? "Well…I uh…I reckon it's the closest to Paradise a fella like me is ever gonna get."

"By 'Paradise' I assume you mean the heaven spoken of in your Holy Bible?" Pearson's face wore a shocked expression. The Princess smiled. "I am well versed in the religions of the world Mr. Pearson, even human religion."

"Uh well…as you probably know the Bible says that killin' is wrong, and I done more that my share of it." He looked away from Celestia. "Done a lot of things that ain't right."

"Tell me, is doing the wrong thing for the right reason still wrong?"

"That's a question I have been asking myself for a long time ma'am."

"And what conclusion have you come too?" She tilted her head to the side ever so slightly, obviously the answer he gave would be important.

"I haven't."

Celestia gave a very knowing nod. "I see." She looked back to the garden. "Lily is her name, isn't it?"

His ears perked up. "What?"

"The pony that you raised and fought so hard to protect, the pony who guided you here?"

"Yea, Lily." He couldn't help but smile a little at the mention of her name. This did not go un-noticed by the Princess.

"I think I am beginning to have you figured out Mr. Pearson." She said as she looked back at him.

"That's not too hard I reckon, I ain't a complicated person."

"Oh on the contrary, you are very complicated." Celestia's smile turned from comforting to somewhat sly, as if to say she had Pearson right where she wanted. "You think with reason yet your decisions are based off of emotion. Love drives you more than anything else. Not passion as is so often the case in humans, but true, pure love. Love for Lily." She paused for a moment to let her words think in, but began speaking quick enough to prevent Pearson from responding. "Equestria's magic, at its very core, comes from love and friendship. The care and camaraderie of the ponies is what makes Equestria so beautiful. It gives us strength, as it gives you strength. I can see now that it gave you the strength to survive the war, to make the near impossible journey over the mountains, to fight the Canin." She now lowered her voice to a personal tone, "There is no logic nor reason to love, yet it drives you, as it drives us. It is because of your love for Lily, not any concern for yourself that drives you to lead a peaceful life, and that is why it is very difficult for me to ask this of you."

Rickey stared at the Princess. "Ask what of me?"

"Equestria is in grave danger Mr. Pearson, and it is a danger I cannot stop on my own." She paused for a moment. "Three hundred years of peace have marked our relationship with the Canin, but that is drawing to a close. Chief Iron Claw, for all of his powers, has grown weak and feeble, and his government along with him. The younger generation sees this as a chance to recapture the glory and the land they think has been taken from them."

"What does that have to do with me? From what I read you handled them last time, why can you handle them again?"

For the first time Celestia allowed herself to sigh. "That is what the history books say. History is written by the victor and can be manipulated to say whatever we want it to say. The truth is I did not resolve the situation the way it is written. The truth is Equestria has always relied on foreign soldiers to do its fighting." She sighed again. "It is not something I am proud of, but it is necessary to preserve the soul of Equestria. If I were to ask my little ponies to fight, kill, and die for Equestria then the very thing that makes us great would be lost."

"Then why don't you get them to fight again?" Pearson was growing worried by this lengthy explanation. He knew what it was leading to but he could not accept it.

"There are none left to fight. The Griffons have been laid waste to by the Canin, and the dragons will not fight. What we could offer them in return for their service pales in comparison to their hordes of treasure. Equestria stands alone, and I do fear that this war will not be kept out of the hearts and minds of the ponies as it has in the past."

Silence ruled the next few anxious moments. Finally Rickey, unable to bear it anymore spoke up in a clear, hard voice: "Princess Celestia, what exactly is it that you're asking of me?"

"Mr. Pearson, Rickey, I want you to return to your homeland and recruit volunteers to form a new Foreign Legion for the defense of Equestria."

He had felt this coming but he could not accept it. "No, No! Princess you cannot ask this of me!" His voice was growing louder and the other ponies in the garden stared at him. "Please, Princess. I cannot fight anymore. One war was enough. I made a promise to Lily, a promise that I would never leave her again. I've already broken to many damn promises, don't make me break this one."

"I'm not forcing you to do anything, merely asking for your help. I understand what you have been through, and trust me I would not ask this if the very existence of Equestria weren't at stake."

"I can't do it Princess. Even if I still had it in me, which I don't, I was just a sergeant. I can't build an army. You've got the wrong fella."

"That is where you are wrong Mr. Pearson. You are the rarest kind of warrior, the kind that does not want to fight, yet you will go against everything you believe in to protect what you love most. I needn't know your military record to see that."

"I can't," he said weakly.

"Please, I don't want a decision now. I want you to take some time to think about it. I want you to be my dinner guest tonight and I do hope you will accept." She began walking towards the castle and Pearson subconsciously followed. "In the meantime there is someone I wish you to meet. He is a human like you. I consider him a good friend and I think it would do his old heart well to see a fellow human after all these years. Will you do that for me?"

"Yes Your Majesty." The request barely even registered with him. His thoughts were consumed with what had been laid before him.

"Thank you." She said with a sincere smile. "I will arrange for a carriage to take you there at once."

Pearson only nodded in despair. She led him first into the throne room then to the great doors he had entered through. "Please pass on my regards to him. I shall see you at dinner this evening." No more mention of Army Command was mentioned, and Rickey knew it was intentional. He walked out of the throne room and through the winding halls of the castle, his mind in a daze. He made it to the main steps and sunk to the ground, his face in his hands. _Why me? Why me?_ Repeated endlessly in his head. Finally the carriage pulled up, and after a moment longer Rickey climbed aboard to be taken to meet this mystery human, and to face his destiny.

* * *

><p>AN. This chapter and the one to follow it kind of represent the end of what i consider to be "Act 1." of this story and the beginning of "Act 2." I wanted to take this opportunity to see what you all think, not just of this chapter but of the story as a whole so far. As I've said before this story has changed greatly since it first started. As originally intended it would have ended many chapters ago and in a much different way. I personally feel that these changes are for the better but i want to know what you all think. Its impossible to completely take a story that exists solely in ones own head and translate it to writing, but i hope i am doing a decent job. I hope you all are enjoying it so far and there will be more to come soon.


	18. Chapter Eighteen: Worthwhile Fate

**A Feather in the Hat**

Chapter Eighteen: Worthwhile Fate

Rickey walked out of the barn and into the cool evening air. He could hear the drunken laughter of his three brothers behind him. This was the one night where Mrs. Davis had reluctantly allowed the three brothers their inhibitions. There was nothing she could do to stop them now. They had all long reached the age of adulthood. But now, in the eyes of the world and of the laws of manhood they were truly men, for tomorrow they were off to war.

They were all scared, but no one dared speak a word of it. No, they were about to become heroes, and this night these future conquerors of liberty and justice drank to their future success. Rickey looked back at them with a wayward glance. He wished he had their enthusiasm. He had no qualms about going, he had made his decision and signed his name, but it was no great patriotic zeal that had driven him to such. He simply had to go, it was his duty. In his heart he understood that duty came above all things.

He walked away from the barn and lit a cigarette. He hadn't seen Lily since supper. She hadn't been the same since he announced his intention of joining his brothers. She had been distant towards him, and he would be lying to himself if he said he did not understand why. He had tried to explain his reasons, but he was unable to properly express his thoughts and feelings in words.

He walked towards the house, ready to turn in for the night. The drink had made his head swim and his eyes heavy. As he approached he heard a quiet sniffling coming from the front of the house. His heart told him what the source of the sound was. He lightened his steps as he approached and stopped at the corner of the house, then quietly peaked his head around to see.

She was sitting on the steps of the porch staring up at the stars and lightly holding the teddy bear he had given her many years before. She was crying, not a loud sobbing cry, but a quiet remorse. It was the same remorse Rickey had spent the night drowning in spirits. He observed her for a long time. Every day of his life the very sight of her filled his heart with joy, but now it was filled with pain. He was breaking her heart and he knew it, and that fact broke his.

As he exhaled from the cigarette the gentle breeze caught the smoke and carried it her direction. She caught the scent, and then slowly turned to look in his direction. Her watery eyes met his and he tried to put on a smile but found it too difficult. After a moment she silently looked away.

"Can I join you?" he asked in a weak voice.

She made no verbal reply, but after a long moment the nodded her head slightly. Rickey took the invitation and sat down next to her. Silence reigned as he tried desperately to find the words he wanted to say. He was scared, not of what he was about to do but to leave things as they were. More than anything he wanted her to forgive him, to give him her blessing before he went off to fight. It was an incredibly selfish thing to ask for, for he knew he didn't deserve it. Yet still he wanted it. He felt like he was losing her, and if he lost Lily then all of this was for nothing and his life meant nothing.

He couldn't take the silence anymore, so finally he spoke. "You know something? I used to be a real bastard."

Lily looked up at him, her eyes squinting as she tried to figure out what he was talking about. He didn't know why he was talking about this, but it was too late to stop now. "Before I met you that is. Yea, I used to be a real angry sum bitch, you know? When I was living on the streets, I can't remember how many times I…" There was no need to tell her about that. "Anyway, what I'm trying to say is, after my folks died I was a real cynical person, hated everyone and everything. When Ma and Pa took me in I lightened up a little, but I was still bitter." He paused for a moment as he tried to formulate his thoughts. "The day I meet you is when all that changed. You gave me something to live for, but more importantly you gave me hope."

"Hope?"

"Yea, hope that maybe this world had something left in it that was worth a damn." He finally managed a smile. "You made me the man I am today Lily, just by being you."

"Then why are you leaving me?" She stared into his eyes with an earnest expression. He knew it would come back to this.

"Because I have to." His smile faded. "Sometimes…sometimes your heart just tells you to do something and you have to do it."

In response Lily shook her head softly and Rickey knew he still wasn't saying the right words.

"Lily…I can't spend the rest of my life knowin' that I had a chance to help in makein' a better life for you and I didn't take it."

She suddenly turned on him in a rage "Stop it!" she cried "Stop it! Stop it! Stop it!" she broke down in tears, a true sob this time.

Rickey was shocked by the outburst and was slow to react. "Stop what? Lily I don't…"

"Stop making this all about me!" She turned back to him, her sobbing having taken a back seat to her anger. "It's all my fault! 'He left because of you Lily…He's dead because of you!'" The sobbing returned. "You should have just left me where you found me, then none of this would be happening."

"No! Don't you ever say that!"

"It's true!"

"No!" He reached for her but she turned away, covering her sobbing eyes with her hooves. Rickey grabbed her and forced her around. She resisted fiercely but his superior strength won the day and he pried her hooves from her eyes, forcing her to look at him.

"Don't you ever say that again God damnit!" His voice was loud and forceful. For so long now he had failed to make himself understood. It ended now. "What I told you earlier, about me bein' the way I was, there was a reason for it." His voice softened some, but still maintained its edge. "If I had never found you…God damn the thought…I'd still be going tomorrow. Only difference is I'd be going because of hatred, because I had something to prove. Now…" He paused and took a deep breath. "I'm the luckiest damn rebel alive, you know why?" She didn't answer; she just looked at him with wide, teary eyes. "Cause I got something real. I ain't fighting for a dream, for a cause, but something real…flesh and blood…" He let go of her and stood up. He looked down at her and she at he. "Can't control fate Lily, can't any more now than the day I found you, but at least I can make it worth something." He turned and began walking away. He could feel his eyes watering up now. He walked toward the barn. Tomorrow be damned, he was going to drink himself stupid tonight to drown his pain.

Lily suddenly got to her hooves. "No! Rickey wait!"…

The carriage came to a sudden halt, jerking his body forward and his mind from his daze.

"Sorry about that sir…almost trotted right past the place!" the stallion towing the carriage turned his head back to flash Rickey a toothy grin.

"What?" Rickey finally managed to stammer out, his mind still caught between past and present.

"The house sir, this is the one I was told to take you to." The stallion jerked his head to the house they were parked in front of.

"Oh." They were now far from the epicenter of Canterlot. The area seemed to be a lose suburb in the hills. Rickey had no idea how long they had been traveling for. Since the moment he had climbed in the carriage he had been lost in his own thoughts, first thinking about what the Princess had told him, and then he had drifted off into the memory from four years ago.

He grabbed his pack and climbed down from the carriage. "What do I owe you?"

"Oh, don't worry about that. Already been paid up."

"Tip?"

The stallion chuckled. "Don't worry about it; it isn't every day I get a job from the Princess herself. Be back in a couple hours to take you back."

"Take me back?"

The stallion cocked his head slightly. "To the palace, for the dinner reception?"

"Oh, right…sorry." He had forgotten all about that. The Princess would want his answer by then. He sighed at the thought.

The stallion gave another grin, then pulled against the limber to get the carriage moving again and was soon out of sight down the curvy mountain road. Pearson looked at the house. This must be where the mystery man lived. He wished Celestia had at least bothered to give him the man's name so he could at least make a proper introduction.

Nothing would change that now. He walked up to the door, eager to get this over with. He didn't want to talk to this man, and he certainly didn't want to have dinner at the palace. All he wanted to do was return to the farm and pretend this had never happened.

He knocked on the door and after a few moments it opened to reveal a man. He was tall, perhaps an inch or two taller than Rickey. He was older than he by at least forty years with a handsome face and sharp, knowing blue eyes. The man looked him over for a moment, and then nodded with a warm smile.

"Yes, yes. She told me you would come. Wonderful." He gestured with his right hand. "Come in, please."

Rickey obeyed without a word. The parlor was tastefully decorated; it reminded him of his old home. Like his lost home it seemed to have a woman's touch and he pondered on this for a moment. Rickey gave a casual glance at the man and noticed a ring on his index finger. So he was married, but to whom? Celestia had said this man had not seen another human in a long time.

"Has he arrived dear?" Rickey's question was answered. A mare with a golden coat and dark violet mane appeared from the hallway. She seemed an older pony to Rickey who was just getting used to seeing the age difference in them.

"Yes he has." The man replied with a smile. "Mr. Pearson, may I introduce Honey Dew, my wife."

Rickey would be lying to himself if he said it did not seem strange, but he smiled and nodded respectfully. "Pleasure ma'am."

"Oh Mr. Pearson the pleasure is all mine! Ours I should say." She gestured to her husband.

"Yes, she and I have read about you in the newspaper. How you fought off seven Savage Dogs and saved the lives of three of the Elements of Harmony, including the Princess's own student. Quite extraordinary."

Rickey was embarrassed by the praise from this stranger. "Papers tend to exaggerate sir."

The man just smiled knowingly. Suddenly the mare spoke up: "Oh my, where are my manners?" She chuckled. "Would you care for something Mr. Pearson?"

"No ma'am, I'm fine."

"Are you sure? We have tea, or perhaps coffee?"

Rickey understood that she was insisting and a continued refusal would be an insult. "Uhm, coffee would be fine, thank you ma'am."

"Wonderful, cream and sugar?" she asked as she made her way to the kitchen.

"No, black's fine ma'am, thank you."

The man chuckled. "Spoken like a true soldier, eh?" he gestured for Rickey to sit down on the further of the two sofas. Rickey obliged and the man took a seat opposite of him. "I hope you won't be disappointed, I'm afraid ours is a bit more refined than what you may be used to. No handful of grounds tossed into the mucket, or perhaps put in an old boot sock first? Never was a fan of the taste myself." He let out a chuckle as Rickey eyed him over for a moment.

"You a soldier sir?"

"Was. Many, many years ago. Fought in the Border War against the Colonials." Honey Dew retuned with two mugs of coffee and sat them down on the table separating the two men. "Thank you dear." He picked up his mug and continued reminiscing. "Yes I was at Pine Ridge, never forget that bloody day. Great hordes of them came up the long slope at us, and all there was to do was load and shoot."

"Oh my, soldiers and their war stories." She rolled her eyes at her husband. "I think I'll leave you two to it."

"Can't be helped dear." The man replied with a smile and a kiss, and then she left the room.

"I've heard the stories. They say there wasn't a foot of ground on the hillside that wasn't occupied by a dead man." Rickey picked up his own mug and sipped from it.

"True enough I suppose. Had to admire them though, the way they just kept coming, line after line. A shame such bravery was wasted on such a foolish thing. Then again all war is like that I think." Rickey replied with a solemn nod. "I heard about the civil war back home. The Princess told me about it, she keeps an eye on things, even over the hills."

Rickey looked up at the man. He was a bit surprised, but as he recalled his own meeting with her earlier that day he began to understand. There was much more to her than met the eye, and a deep wisdom and cleverness that Rickey could not hope to understand.

The old man continued. "It saddened me greatly to hear it, Polarans fighting Polarans, but it was only a matter of time." He looked Rickey over for a moment. "I tell you, it's been a long time since I seen a soldier in butternut. I take it you were a rebel?"

Rickey nodded. The brown tunic he wore, the official uniform of the Revolutionary Army, was also the uniform that men like the man sitting across from Rickey wore in the service of the old republic. When General McDaniel took power, one of his acts was to change the uniform from butternut to dark green. This was done to help remove any lingering loyalties some of the professional soldiers had to the old regime. The rebels claimed they wore butternut because they were fighting to restore the Republic, and while there was truth to this it was a way to make use of the thousands of uniforms that lay in warehouses across the country.

The old man nodded. "And I take it by your being here that the rebels lost?"

"Yea." Rickey said the word bitterly.

"I'm not surprised, McDaniel is too crafty." The man spoke matter of fact, as if it was a forgone conclusion that the revolution would fail. Perhaps it was, but it did not stop Rickey from letting out an angry grunt at the name of his most hated enemy, the man whose laws had forced Lily to live in fear and whose soldiers had killed his family.

"Damn shame too," The man continued, either not hearing Rickey or ignoring him. "We loved him so much; he was our hero, our general. But the power got to him, made him evil. How many men have died because of him?"

Rickey did not answer, he suspected that the question was rhetorical anyway. He didn't want to talk about McDaniel or the war. He wanted to go home. He drank his coffee in silence as his eyes scanned around the room, looking for something to turn the conversation. His eyes passed a framed picture on the wall, and then returned to it. It looked very familiar, a picture he had seen many times before. He rose from the seat and without a word walked to the wall to get a closer look. It hit him all at once; it was a picture of Charles Baker, the great aviation pioneer and explorer. He glanced back at the man who observed Rickey with a look of feigned curiosity that below the surface was knowing and many steps ahead of him. It was a picture of this old man from twenty years ago.

"Holy shit, you're Charley Baker…" Rickey was dumbstruck. The old man chuckled.

"Once upon a time. Now I am Old Man Baker, the strange old human that lives up in the mountains."

Rickey stared. He was looking at his childhood hero. When he was young, before his parents died, he longed to be an explorer and idolized Baker. Most others did as well because he was the smiling and handsome face of aviation, which then was still in its infancy. Baker made several highly publicized long distance flights in aircraft that gradually got bigger and more powerful. Eventually he attempted the impossible, to fly over the Great Mountain Divide, and was never heard from again.

It all made sense now. Rickey looked at the man with a new found sense of both awe and understanding. Baker saw the look and knew what it meant. "Do you drink Mr. Pearson?"

"Well I uhm…"

"Of course you do! After all what is a Polaran without his corn whiskey, eh?" Without another word Baker took him by the shoulder and led him down the hall way to a door. It led down a flight of steps into the cellar. It wasn't a large room, but it served Baker's uses well. There was an old easy chair in the far corner, next to it were racks of tobacco leaves laid out to dry. On the opposite wall hung various items of memorabilia, relics of his past life. On the wall nearest him was a still. Rickey had known moonshiners in his youth, but none of their rigs even came close to his. It looked to belong in a laboratory.

Baker walked to a rack next to the still that contained several glass bottles. He retrieved on and poured some of its contents into two glasses and handed one to Rickey.

"Father was a moonshiner. Taught me everything he knew when he was sober enough. How is it?"

Rickey took a cautious sip from the glass. After for years of Rotgut and Oh Be Joyful it was the most incredible thing he had ever tasted. Baker saw the look of satisfaction on his face and smiled. "Glad you like it." He gestured for Rickey to take a seat in the chair while he pulled up a stool from the workbench next to the still. The old aviator waved his hand around the room and then spoke.

"It seems that over the years Honey Dew, bless her soul, has grown a bit tired of my constant ramblings about 'The Old Days'. So to keep the peace I come down her when I am feeling nostalgic."

Rickey nodded as he took another drink from the glass. Baker offered him a cigarette, made from the tobacco leaves that dried next to his head. It, like the whiskey, was far batter than he was used too.

"Tell me Rickey, do you mind if I call you Rickey?"

"No sir, please."

Baker smiled, "Tell me Rickey, what do you think about her?"

"Your wife? Uhm…she seems like a real nice pony..." Rickey's response sounded more like a question.

"Not what I mean. Us being married."

"Oh well, you two seem happy. Ain't my place to judge." Rickey was visibly embarrassed.

"That's the thing about ponies Rickey, they don't judge. Could you imagine something like this back in Polara? God God!" He laughed. "But not here. That's what makes this place so damn special. I'm not saying there isn't any animosity, but what little of it there is is drowned by love."

Rickey nodded in understanding. Baker continued: "I'm sure you've figured this out by now, but I did in fact make it over the mountains." He laughed sarcastically. "And when I did I discovered I could not go back." He took another drink. "Not physically mind you, I was low on fuel but I could have run my engines off of ethanol which is distilled in abundance in some parts of this land. Not fit to drink though." He chuckled again. "I could not go back because a man cannot just leave paradise. I could not trade this land of love and happiness for McDaniel's land of hate and tyranny." He sighed. "You know what I did with my aircraft?" Rickey shook his head. "Sold it for firewood."

Rickey thought back to when he had burned the barn. "I understand, I did something similar, didn't want to give myself an out."

Baker nodded. "Exactly. I think you and I understand each other quite well."

The two old soldiers spent the next two hours talking. They spoke about Polara and Equestria. Then they talked about Bakers flying career. Rickey told him how he had idolized him and the old man laughed. He talked about the thousands of little boys like Pearson he had given autographs too. He asked about Lily and Rickey re told the story. It warmed Baker's heart when he understood just how much Rickey cared about her.

Honey Dew came down the stairs to inform that the carriage had arrived to take Rickey to the palace.

"Royal Dinner eh? Been to one myself, just one mind you." He gave Rickey a sinister smile, and then laughed. "Here, you'll be needing these, trust me." He handed Rickey a bottle of whiskey and a bundle of cigarettes wrapped in wax paper.

"I can't take this."

"Nonsense, it's nice to have someone to share it with." Rickey gratefully accepted the gift and the two men left the cellar. As he walked towards the door and the waiting cab he felt a hand on his shoulder.

"Hold on a minute lad." Rickey turned around to see that Baker's normally cheerful expression had been replaced by a serious one. "I know what the Princess has asked of you. She asked me to do it but," He swept his hand up and down his own body. "I'm too damn old. I would never make it back over them mountains let alone be able to gather recruits." He paused for a moment and sighed. "I'm not going to try and tell you what your answer should be; only you can figure that one out. Only folks like you and I truly know about war, because only folks like you and I have seen it, been a part of it, been sacrificed to it." Rickey understood that the old man was having a hard time expressing his thoughts and feelings on the matter, just like he had all those years ago. "But that's kinda the point isn't it? Only the damned can know war so the innocent can stay pure…"

Rickey nodded in solemn agreement.

"Whatever you decide, whichever way you go, I wish the best of luck to you. You're a good man, with a good heart."

"Thank you sir." Rickey extended his hand and Baker took it. Rickey then turned and left, to face the Royal Dinner, to face fate…

He hadn't felt so out of place in his life, not even on the first day in Ponyville. Now he was not only separated by his species, but by his class. This was a collection of the richest and most powerful ponies in all of Equestria. He was a poor farmer. He almost felt like a circus attraction, the high society ponies glancing at him then mumbling to one another.

He had followed Baker's advice and taken to the bottle. He was now decently drunk and he watched the party with heavy eyes. He could focus quite well when he was drunk as long as he had not gone completely overboard. He watched all of these fancy ponies in their dresses and saddles. Princess Celestia by nature was the center of all the festivities. She had not said a word to him, only giving him a nod as he walked into the dining hall. He looked at her as she sat in the center of a very long table that took up the entire front of the hall. She caught his stare and the two locked eyes for a brief moment before Rickey turned away. He did not want unnecessary attention. He hoped without hope that she had either forgotten or had found someone or somepony better and had dropped the issue. He wanted her to send a servant to his table with a message telling him he could leave now and his services were no longer required, but he knew that wasn't going to happen.

As he continued to scan the room his eyes fell on a table in the far corner of the room. At this table were unicorn fillies and colts. They were students of Princess Celestia's School for Gifted Unicorns. They were not like the others. Although many of them came from high class families they did not give him the stares the older ponies had. A few had even come up to him wanting to know the story of his fight in the cave. He had waved them off, telling them it wasn't a story for young ponies.

They reminded him of Lily when she was young. The laughed and played just like she had, and for a passing moment he could almost see her at the table with them. He sighed and got to his feet, he needed some fresh air.

He walked with drunken dignity out to one of the balconies. There were other ponies out here and they watched him as he slumped lazily against the wall and rested his arms on his knees as he lit a cigarette.

Somepony walked up next to him, and as he looked up he saw it was the Princess. He tried to get to his feet but she waved him down. "There is no need, rest easy Mr. Pearson." She walked to the railing on the balcony and took a deep breath of the cool night air. She exhaled with a smile and looked up at the starry sky. "My sister has put on a beautiful night for us all." She turned to look at Pearson.

He knew what was coming and he would do anything to avoid it. He took another long swig from the bottle he had brought out with him.

"Mr. Pearson…I've come to think you are no fan of small talk so I will do us both a favor and get to the point. Have you made a decision?"

Rickey looked up at Her Majesty with a pathetic look. _Why? Damnit why me? Of all the poor bastards in this world why do you want me? _He wanted to scream it but instead he remained silent. She wanted her answer and she would have it now. He thought of his peaceful, happy life on the farm. He thought of the war. He thought of the children then the dinning hall. He thought of the Savage Dogs.

He was at the fork. Peace and happiness, or duty?

Or fate,

_Can't control fate, Lily._

"I'll do it." He said it in such a small voice that he could barely hear it himself. But Princess Celestia heard did hear it, and she breathed out an enormous sigh of relief.

"Thank you." Her voice was equally as small. She cleared her throat then spoke in her normal, regal tone. "Thank you, from the bottom of my heart."

"Don't thank me, I ain't done nothin' yet"

"Oh but you have. You have given us a chance, _Captain _Pearson."

Rickey looked up at her in bewilderment. That was the strangest sounding thing he had ever heard.

"I still say you got the wrong guy."

"Only time will tell." She smirked at him.

"I guess, but if I'm going to do this then there are a lot of things I'm going to need…" She cut him off

"I've already handled it."

"But I…"

"I've had a long time to prepare for this and to make plans. You will be provided with all the resources you need, as well as very detailed instructions on the particulars of this plan."

He looked up at her for a long moment. "You knew I was going to say yes, didn't you?"

She smiled. "I had a good feeling you would. I know what it means to always do for others and never for yourself. I see that quality in you Captain."

Rickey moaned. "Lily's gonna hate me. I broke my promise, again. She'll never forgive me."

"I don't know about that."

"You don't know Lily."

"But I do know ponies." As she spoke she made a grand sweeping gesture with her hoof. "Ponies are nothing if not forgiving. That is the one universal truth of this land. She will forgive you, she loves you too much to hate you."

"I don't think it's that simple." He took another swig from the bottle.

She looked at him for a moment. "Get some rest Captain. I have arranged a room for you in the city's finest hotel. We will talk more in the morning before you leave."

"Yes Your Majesty." Celestia bid him a good night and left the balcony, leaving him with his thoughts. _What have I done? _He still wasn't entirely sure. Fate had ordained that he be here at this moment, and fate ordained that soon he would leave his happy life behind him once again. He was a soldier again, the commander of an army that didn't exist yet. He felt like the lowest private going over the top for the first time, and it made him want to vomit.

Captain Richard Pearson was off to war.


End file.
